


The Darkness Within

by theselittlethings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Deserved Better, Ben doesn't die, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dirty Talk, Dreams, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Visions, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Goonies Parallels, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Make It Make Sense, Mutual Masturbation, POV Rey (Star Wars), Possession, References to Alcohol, Resurrection, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey Palpatine, Sexual Tension, Spice AKA Space Weed, Spoilers, Spooky Vibes Towards The End, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Stream of Consciousness, TROS SPOILERS IN TAGS, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Dark Side of the Force, Well Mostly Canon Compliant But Not Entirely, everyone deserved better, space adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/pseuds/theselittlethings
Summary: The Rise of Skywalker, Reylo Fanfic Novelization. Now featuring: a coherent plot/canon, alive Ben Solo, and gratuitous sex. Challenge accepted, JJ Abrams.AND/ORPost-TLJ: After a year with the Resistance, Rey still works to understand and master her Force sensitivity. Her connection with Supreme Leader Kylo Ren remains open, the two pretending to ignore one another until recently. The Resistance receives word that the First Order acquired the fleet of miraculously-revived Emperor Palpatine, sending Rey on a whirlwind mission to locate the Sith's location. But a Darkness inside her keeps guiding her movements, bringing her answers to questions she didn't know she still had. Rey struggles with her past, future, moral gray, and identity — and her increasingly heated physical relationship with Kylo Ren.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 244
Kudos: 411
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics, The Rise of Skywalker: Fix-It Fic Edition





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Rise of Skywalker: that happened. This fic is being written to come to terms with the... decisions made in the canon, especially as someone who enjoyed playing in that sandbox these past couple years. Instead of making a really long & negative list, will focus on this fic's specific aims.
> 
> 1\. Give Rey's journey to self-definition more meaning beyond a flat Light/Dark divide that inserts male legacy surnames for highlighting personal struggle & acceptance. Reframe a patronizing narrative that walked back on her parentage by telling the story from her perspective and giving her ample space to react to things.  
> 2\. Pretend the trilogy's canon is coherent by filling in the big gaps created by TROS (limited to Rey's arc specifically). Give more emotional context to the plot and attempt to remove questions raised by the events that take place.  
> 3\. Practice dialogue. Maybe not as bad at it as I thought. Don't plan to see the movie again any time soon and tbh I don't remember a ton of it.  
> 4\. Flip the bird to JJ Abrams for bungling the finale by including totally unnecessary and overly detailed smut. Consider it reylo fan service.
> 
> Maybe we lost seeing a unique end to a heroine's journey, but we can continue to create and be inspired by this community. Already enjoying writing this (spite is an excellent motivator) and look forward to the reylos doing what we know best: having fun.
> 
> Big thank you to [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for helping me put this mess in the correct order and being an awesome beta & friend.
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy 💖

The afternoon is peaceful on Ajan Kloss. The sunlight is warm on Rey's back, a breeze rustles the leaves in the jungle's canopy. She keeps her eyes closed, legs crossed with her fingertips on the ground. Focuses on her breaths, wets her lips when she senses an energy weaving beneath her in the planet's surface.

_Barely a flicker._

Her connection to the Force has dimmed over the past several months, blurred by an increasing static that saps the energy's tangibility yet fuels her abilities. Charges her strikes and jumps, but filters out a vitality that once pulsed through every surface. In the atmosphere around her. That she could access and feel when she took these moments to just —

_Breathe._

Meditation is more frustrating than transcendent. Becoming more of a chore. A struggle to find that "balance" between warmth & cold, peace & violence — to catch that same Light she felt when reaching out on Ahch-To. Sitting just like this, smelling sea-salted air and mossy mountains instead of flowers and dirt. A smile lifting her face, finally identifying that awareness she had noticed so many times before.

**Light.**

(Weightless for a fleeting moment.)

Rey inhales deeply, her body raising slowly from the ground. She stops after an inch, pictures Leia reminding her to take it one breath at a time. To match the rhythm of her heartbeat to the Force's frequency. That tiny flicker seems so far away, evading her almost purposefully. But the tether holds. Her pulse steadies. Rey straightens her shoulders, places her palms up on her knees as she lifts higher.

The Force kindles a little brighter, a small reward after struggling to ease her nerves (again). Unsettled by that same hollow feeling she has waking up from her increasingly vivid dreams. Looming like a shadow when she tries to catch that same Light that was so… accessible before. A chill trails her spine as she rises, captained by the energy surging her veins instead of in the dirt.

She resists looking over her shoulder. Keeps her eyes closed, hears rocks scatter below. Dismisses that flutter in her chest perceiving a remote gaze on her back —

 _Ben._ Rarely calls him that anymore. Even if there's a small part of her that still wants to, against her better judgment and loyalty.

— It's not Kylo Ren. The signature is too blurred to be his. And too indistinguishable from her own unexplained trepidation. Even if its observation seems physical…

The stones float beside her, their locations sharpened in her mind by concentrating on the Force threading through them. Sweat beads her neck from the jungle's humidity, nape exposed under her three buns.

Two weeks after Crait she had a similarly visceral reaction to being seen. Bent over the musty Jedi texts, thumbing through the faded words & charts. Using the books as an excuse to retreat from the crowded Resistance bunkers at their first holdout. Living among so many new faces was still strange and new after a lifetime on Jakku. Before she remembered names, shared meals, grew accustomed to bunkmates and falling asleep with footsteps pacing down halls. She bristled at the idea of unwelcome company. Spun around and gasped when she saw Kylo with his hands clasped behind his back.

He looked up. Their eyes met. She glared, returned to her books, and in the months that followed they rarely broke their stubborn routine.

_A whole year now._

The stones swirl higher and Rey grinds her teeth, gently rising once more. Her link to the Force is active, more internal than flowing through the life surrounding her. A battery instead of a web, humming to keep her afloat. The shifted perception has been gradual, almost imperceptible — until these last weeks. When she realized that something had changed.

Rey whispers, "Guide me…"

And swallows hard, meeting only silence in return. Her pulse is loud in her ears. The static churns her stomach, distorts the gentle echo of her heartbeat. At times Rey has wondered if Leia's stories about the kindly voices of prior Jedi masters are really just comforting childish myths. Lies meant to assuage her occasional exasperation with training — by suggesting it all has a rich history. With purpose and meaning.

Even if lately it really doesn't feel that way. Rey frowns recalling all the times she's woken up in a cold sweat, trembling from the intensity of her recurring dream. The one she's had with increased frequency this year and now the last six days in a row:

Flashes of Darkness. Lightning. Chanting. Crackling red. A jagged throne. The warmth of a mother's embrace.

The last is the picture she hates most. After all this time trying to let go of her past and her family who abandoned her. Accepting that whatever future she chooses will be on her own. She isn't sure if Kylo's presence when she wakes up is supposed to mean anything. Hasn't been every time, but he was there the first time it happened. Fifty days after Crait. Sat on the side of her cot with his hands on his knees, keeping silent guard until she fell back asleep. One time he rested his hand on her calf. Another time on her shoulder. Eight weeks ago she inched away from him in her bed, slept with her nose against the wall. Three weeks ago she didn't scoot away at all. Four days ago she let him drape his arm around her and say,

_"I'm here."_

and hold her close against his chest —

"Guide me…"

_Getting distracted again —_

Rey bobs in midair, her seat becoming less sturdy as her mind wanders. It tends to if she thinks about Be- _Kylo_ for too long, even without this muted haze cast over her perception. She sighs and lowers to the ground, setting the stones down gradually with an inelegant thud.

Meditation won't bring any relief. Rey smooths her clothes, slings her pack over her shoulder. Clips the repaired saber to her holster. Winds the foot-worn pathways the Resistance has made through the planet's thick foliage around their base.

Wonders why Leia insists she seek advice from ghosts who haven't seen the world she's in at all.

"Hey," a bearded Resistance member greets as Rey reaches their camp. A pair of others strolling by do the same.

Rey waves and grins with her teeth, distantly respected and feared from an arm's length by most. She cuts around the outer perimeter to avoid anymore interference on her way to her destination. Her faculties for accessing and manipulating the Force's energy are… stressed by enough already.

Rey spots Leia from a distance, directing ground crews to their afternoon destinations. She stands proud with her gray hair pinned high, hands clasped behind her back (not unlike her son). Her chin tilts up in profile, giving her an elegance and sagacity that Rey wishes she had. Despite the two of them choosing not to call the other "Master" and "Padawan," Leia is the closest thing Rey has to a mentor. Someone who can understand the confusion of having these… capacities. Abilities. Sensitivities. She still struggles to define it, really.

"— I expect you to report back with your progress in three hours, soldier," Leia directs at a clip. "You, give me the origin coordinates of the mole's transmission."

Rey overhears the General's charges bark their agreement and march off, approaching Leia cautiously. Rey checks the boundaries to her mind, maintains her guard and visualizes a blank white screen. Their trust is budding and tentative, built over many long walks and cups of root tea. But Rey hesitates to regard her as maternal, often finds her looks to be a little too knowing. A part of her fears that Leia can peer through her mental defenses and read how often her son intrudes her thoughts. Even if it's only paranoia, still not a risk Rey is willing to take.

"General, I —"

Leia turns and flashes Rey a warm smile. "Back so soon?"

Rey shrugs, adjusts the strap of her bag. "Had the same trouble again. From the other day."

"Alignment?" Leia asks.

"Yes." Rey shakes her head. "Th- That balance, I can't seem to find it like I used to."

"These things take practice," Leia reminds her. "Often when you perfect one method, you find it still needs to change."

"Right," Rey mumbles, unhitching her saber to examine it in her hand. "I tried to reach out again. To the Old Masters." She glances up to meet Leia's eyes. "But they never answer me. Maybe I'm doing something wrong, or —"

The woman nods, considering Rey's words. "Are you sure the message is getting through?"

Rey pauses. But makes no mention of the static distorting her access. "I'm not sure. Is there some way for me to know?"

"Not really," Leia admits, taking the saber from Rey. She turns it over, thumbs the leather band hiding the repairs. "But keep trusting your instincts. When they do hear it, you'll know."

"Right," Rey says. Heard that one before. "I think I'll just…"

She gestures in the general direction of the obstacle course they cobbled together for physical training. Leia rests her hand on Rey's shoulder, holding out her family's saber between them.

"You're doing great," she tells her. There's a beat. "Don't doubt yourself."

Despite Leia's kind intentions, the words carry a hollow sting — 

(Rey imagines them being said to a young boy, head hanging down with dark floppy hair. Leia kneeling down to wrap her arms around his gangly frame.)

— _He refused her,_ Rey remembers, justifying away her lingering guilt. _Multiple times._

"Thank you," Rey croaks.

And tears mist her vision, prompted by the picture she created just before. Her insides knot with the gravity of her undertaking as Leia returns the saber, the handle feeling strangely heavy in Rey's grip. Weighed by the responsibilities and expectations of both an ancient legacy and a torn family.

Rey sniffles reclipping the weapon. "If I do reach the Old Masters —"

"When," Leia corrects. "When you do."

"When I do. Will they…"

She almost cringes saying it,

"…Will they show me what comes next?"

Leia squeezes her shoulder. "Something like that. It's for each Jedi to discover on their own. Unique to each adherent."

"Okay." The repeated explanation isn't comforting. "Thank you. Again."

"No, thank you," Leia replies.

She doesn't need to elaborate. Her wistful expression says everything. Rey's heart drops to her stomach, a tear streaking her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Rey answers. "I'm fine."

"Come here —"

They hug. But the Light that Leia's compassion usually kindles feels distant and scrambled. Rey clutches tighter and the emptiness remains.

"Thank you," Rey reiterates. She needed it.

Leia steps away. "Go now. Assembly coming up shortly."

"Right."

Rey nods and jogs off, Leia waiting to watch her as she goes.

Maker, now she feels worse.

Four nights ago, Rey woke up with Kylo in her bed. Three days ago she accidentally mentioned his mother:

_"It's been… distracting me during training, Leia even noticed and —"_

_"Leia? My mother was with you while training?"_

_"She is my training, I mean, she's my —"_

_"My mother is training you. In the ways of the Force."_

_"I…"_

_"Yes or no?"_

_"Y- Yes —"_

Rey sets her pack on a boulder near the start of her obstacle course, several feet from the lip of a canyon. Bends her knees and stretches her limbs, bounces on the balls of her feet. She squints into the bright sun and takes a long deep breath. She hears creatures in nearby brush. The Resistance's shouts and laughter from faraway. A long pole lays at the chasm's edge, waiting for her to initiate a run.

_"You really do look for them everywhere."_

_"Who?"_

_"Your parents. Seeking out mine instead of your own."_

_"M- My — They were nobody —"_

_"And I'm nobody to mine."_

_"That's not true. Your mother loves you. So much. Y- You said no, you refused her training and —"_

_"Sent me away. But sees it fit to keep you —"_

_"She was scared! You were bigger than her when you were twelve, you were —"_

Rey should have stopped there. Before he said with unusual composure,

_"I've heard enough."_

And stormed out of her room, phasing through the wall to disappear.

…Rey clears her head and counts to three.

She gets over the first obstacle, using the pole to vault across the canyon. An energy boosts her leap to speed her passage — but the Force's aid seems internal and skewed, instead of flowing through her motions from the planet's vitality. The next set of challenges are easily overcome, in a series of flips and jumps and grunts. Her footsteps slam against the dirt like drums, their percussion accompanying the beat of her racing heart. All her concerns ebb into the burn of exertion, into pushing herself further. Got it down by another half-second just the other day.

Rey sweeps the helmet from the ground, shoves it on her head and slams the blast shield down. The darkness tunes her awareness to the Force weaving throughout her surroundings, avoiding trees and roots by sensing their energy. She unlatches her saber and ignites the blade, anticipating the combat remote droid's arrival.

**pew pew**

Rey deflects its shots and increases her pace, spinning round to parry during the chase. Her respite from intrusive memories is short-lived, nearly stumbling over a branch —

_"I'm here…"_

Somehow happened only four nights ago after so many kriffing "almosts" the entire year before. Her quarters felt so cold and cramped, somehow crooked and eerie. Kylo held her when she woke from her nightmare, his sleeping shirt thin enough to sense the warmth of his skin. He feathered his nose through her hair. Froze when she scooted higher and her mouth grazed his collarbone.

(Rey grunts as she swings her saber, recovers when her toe catches an object on the jungle's floor.)

She wants to believe it was an error. Even though she moved first, half-asleep and dwelling in his scent. The tether to their bond cinched in her ribs, lowered to stir a heat between her legs. She grazed her lips along his neck and jaw until they found the other's mouth. He laced his fingers in her hair, pulled her close to deepen their kiss. They tasted the other eagerly, movements growing more desperate as their connection hummed at a higher frequency — encouraging, pleasant, fueled by a rightness she still can't explain.

"Kriff!"

The droid's blast clips her upper arm, singing her above the scar she earned with Kylo in Snoke's Throne Room. Almost like it's teasing her. She glares at the machine's outline through her lowered blast shield, spotting a long red tie wrapped to a branch at the next clearing. Rey barely misses the droid's next shot, ducking before sustaining any injury.

This time the error is infuriating, another lapse in discipline. Like when she rolled her hips against Kylo feeling his length poke her middle and bit his lower lip. His palms scooped beneath her top, completely covering her tits. She inhaled sharply as he squeezed, flicked her pebbled nipples. Rey shivered and sighed that name she never says,

_"Ben…"_

She snarls in frustration. With herself. With her training. The meditation. Kylo. Everything. It eclipses her impulses and hones her rage on the droid that doesn't ever kriffing stop —

Rey slices a nearby tree trunk when she evades again, burning the wood with a hiss. She charges forward, hacking aside a vine with her blade and baring her teeth. The red tie hangs only a few yards away. The dirt seems to ripple, the Force acting as a spring beneath her feet. She dodges another shot, wildly brandishing her saber in the clearing with a blind desire to smash the kriffing thing to bits —

 _"Trying to fall back asleep?"_ he asked.

_"M- Maybe…"_

_"Let me help you…"_

She blushed hearing him repeat her words from so long ago. Spread her legs wider as he snaked his hand between her thighs, sliding higher until his knuckles bumped her seam. He yanked aside her underwear, crooked around the damp cloth to wet his fingernails against her entrance. Met her eyes as she tilted nearer and waited for her to nod. Never stopped staring, even when he pushed deeper into her opening, dipped inside her body with a tiny slick sound.

"Argh!"

Rey avoids a final blast, flings the helmet off and tosses it on the ground unceremoniously. It rolls beneath the droid, tricking the homing systems briefly. She kicks off the nearest tree, lunges towards the red tie. Cuts it in half with her blade, snatching it in her fist before she lands. Spins to terminate the droid finally, carving through its guts with a sizzling crunch.

An imperfect silence follows, muddied by the jungle's natural noises and her own uneven breaths. Has a way of narrowing the scope of her victory. The obstacle course ends in a patch of growth far from the Resistance base. Despite Rey's temptation to enjoy the opportunity for solitude, she prioritizes the upcoming assembly obediently. Rey holsters her weapon, crouches to collect the droid pieces littered on the ground.

And frowns at the pestering memory of liking it when Kylo whispered,

_"Already so wet for me…"_

A proper Jedi wouldn't be so reckless, following impulse rather than calm reasoning. Wouldn't allow an enemy to invade their body, wouldn't succumb to a moment of weakness —

But a part of her thinks it was worth it, to see his mouth drop when he kneaded her clit and saw her expression change. Rey smothered her moans in his chest, lying on her side and matching the rhythm of his wrist. A tension wrung the anchors of their bond, amplifying the warmth blooming in her cunt. Kylo grew more certain and she angled to grind faster against his hand. More assertive as she kissed his clothes & neck. Her face pinched when he crooked his fingers. Her hands flew down to circle her swollen nub. She closed her eyes, finally lost in something just for herself — engaged by passion and fueled by lust and all the other things her texts warn her not to heed —

_"Come real hard for me?"_

An air of command sharpened the phrase. Rey clenched her jaw, his voice and words driving her towards completion. She nuzzled into his broad frame — stifled her noises, squirmed on his knuckles, left prints on the crinkled standard-issue sheets. Rey writhed through her climax as her mind clicked to that same blank white screen (for another reason entirely), breathing that syllable again like it hurt to keep it in,

_"Ben…"_

And after that, he urged her to fall back asleep.

Four days. Still no real discussion of what transpired. Just an argument about his mother the very next day —

A low-flying ship whips the jungle's canopy, sputtering with a long tail of white smoke. The engines rumble with a familiar tune that snaps Rey from her reverie. She cranes her neck and shields her eyes, identifies the Millennium Falcon with an audible groan.

"What the…" Sure Poe will have some excuse ready to go.

She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, picking up the droid's pieces with a frown. Lost control again. Fed into her anger instead of seeking peace. Rey begins her long walk to base, helmet under her arm as she reminds herself to breathe deeply.

_These things take practice._

Rey focuses on her every step, that silenced unease crawling back with a heightened strength. She refuses to glance over her shoulder to satisfy that lingering sensation —

A feeling she's being watched.

And not by Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Your feedback is appreciated and adds ten years to my life.
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics) 🙂
> 
> Including links just this first chapter & the last:
> 
> [Force Bond Metaphysics](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/theselittlethings_sw_oneshots) (oneshot collection) ~ feat. all 1/1 explicit canonverse fics, variety of kinks/tags for your enjoyment
> 
> [The Black Forest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400549/chapters/33255489) (completed longread) ~ post-tlj canonverse horror story: feat. a Rey struggling with the Dark Side of the Force as well as the darkness within, a fractured Resistance haunted by a ghostly presence on Kashyyyk, Rey and Kylo camping, lots of intense kinky smut, ending is not exactly happy but both alive & together with potential opportunity
> 
> [Until The Very End of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291218/chapters/48102949) (WIP) ~ spooky and sexy modern day Force Bond story: "Two strangers keep seeing one another despite a thousand miles between them. They grow closer exploring this shared secret — drawn by a darkness that guides their impulses and dreams. But as strange things start to happen around them, it looks more like their chance encounter and bond may not be random at all. And opens a path to an ancient magic that has intentions of its own..."
> 
> [Works Page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/works)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, totally blown away by the response this fic has received so far. Apologies for not replying to comments yet, got excited and went to drafting instead. Your feedback is wonderful and very motivating, thank you so so much 🙂💞
> 
> Tags Added: Force Sensitive Finn, Dreams
> 
> Big thank you to [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for being an incredible beta and friend.
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy 💖

Rey groans approaching the airstrip, which was haphazardly crafted by widening a natural clearing in Ajan Kloss's dense growths of trees. Plumes of smoke thicken the humid jungle air with an acrid haze, the burnoff stinging Rey's nostrils and tongue. Maintenance crews rush past her to stave leaks and extinguish flames on the Millennium Falcon.

Typical for Poe to bring back the bucket of bolts in even worse shape than it left in, despite countless requests to lay off the unnecessary theatrics. Not that it makes much difference with the Resistance low on resources. He's hardly the only pilot to treat the ship so carelessly. But he is the only one she has to hear constantly try and justify it, always finding reasons to have Finn tag along on his missions.

The loading ramp lowers with a grinding screech. She cringes at the noise, twisted durasteel piercing her eardrums —

"Sorry!"

A tech knocks Rey's shoulder with a clipped apology, scurrying away like she might bite. Not everyone at camp is comfortable with her abilities. She reads it in their docile postures and vague phrasing without any assistance from the Force. The occasional moments remind Rey that her time here's been… brief. The lines would only fill a couple panels in her old AT-AT.

Rey spins to see Poe storming ahead of Finn with a frustrated expression, kicking up clouds of dirt in his wake. She stands tall, fists on her hips and asks,

"How did it go?"

The sarcasm doesn't go unnoticed. "Really bad actually."

"I can tell," Rey sputters, gesturing to the ship. "What was it this time? Another uncharted asteroid field? Did you bother to check the charts before overclocking the drives —"

Poe pinches the bridge of his nose. "Swarmed by TIEs, kept tracking us through lightspeed." His exasperated tone makes her grind her teeth. "Don't give me that look, they were coming in hot and it was the only option —"

"There's never another option besides — besides property damage with you!" Rey spits, eyes darting back to the exhaust pipes charred from a hasty & unshielded reentry. "Leia was just saying the other day we need to conserve our —"

"Just trying to conserve our lives, Rey! I get that you're attached to the ship, but —"

_No, he doesn't get it at all —_

"Comes back looking like this every kriffing time you pilot it!" she snaps, taking a step closer.

Poe glares, matching her posture with a suspicious tone. "If you're trying to say something about my flying —"

_Her anger spikes with every heartbeat —_

"And what if I am?" Rey counters, provoking him purposefully. "Need how many crew to put out the fire this time?"

Poe sneers. "I've been flying since —"

"Heyyy!"

Finn jogs over to the pair, flashing his teeth with a fake smile. His amiable greeting defuses the argument before the chain reaction spirals further.

"How is everyone doing?" he adds innocently.

 **"Fine!"** Rey and Poe respond in unison.

The pilot gives Finn a significant look, transmitting an unspoken message with his long pause. No fault or failing to find in his attitude as usual, Rey presumes. Poe walks away wordlessly, flagging down a passing analyst as an excuse to leave.

"Great, that's great," Finn remarks, a little high-pitched in his attempt to act casual.

Finn switches a small flat packet between his hands. A decades-old manual comms scrambler that Rey recognizes from Empire ships littered on Jakku.

He scratches his head and attempts, "Sorry about the ship, Rey, things got pretty hairy and —"

Chewbacca passes by with a growl.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Finn insists.

The wookiee harrumphs with a curt wave, patting Rey's shoulder as he returns to camp. Finn watches Chewie for a moment before recalling where he left off.

"Things got pretty crazy," he recovers. "First Order's got hyperspeed trackers on their satellite ships now too and —"

"Yeah, I know," Rey sighs, crossing her arms. "Sorry, I…"

Mechanics scurry to wipe down the Falcon and begin repairs, buffers and tools activating with whirrs & squeaks. The ship's damage is substantial, but no part appears unsalvageable.

"…I'm glad everyone made it back alright." Rey bites her cheek. "Successful mission?"

"Yeah, got the mole's latest message." Finn holds out the packet between them. "First Order followed some broadcast signal from an unidentified fleet. Located two days ago, made contact yesterday." Finn zips the packet back in his vest. "Now we got the details."

Leia mentioned an assembly to discuss the mole's intel, but not that the Resistance would be receiving more directly before debriefing.

Rey raises her eyebrows. "There was… another transmission?"

A socket pops on the Falcon, shooting a burst of steam. Her chest tightens in that same hollow space she felt her frustration with Poe before, the impulse too quick to rationalize away. She bites the skin behind her lip, working to maintain an easygoing manner. Seeing C3PO over Finn's shoulder doesn't make it easier.

"Yes, received first thing this morning," the droid chirps. "Insisted on a package for physical delivery, too sensitive to be transmitted over coded channels."

Now she remembers. She bristles at the droid's attempt to be helpful, not in any mood for his overeager programming.

"Thanks —"

"Whole point of the mission?" Finn teases.

"Right."

C3PO bobs his head and wobbles towards Poe, who's already winding down the path to the command hub. Poe calls,

"Come on! Gotta get that message to —"

"I'll be right there!" Finn replies.

He pats the message in his pocket, meets Rey's gaze for a second too long.

Something nudges along the barriers to her mind. A quick tap that spurs her Force awareness to a higher key. The runway drops to a perfect silence.

She blinks. Flinches when her surroundings return to full volume again, Finn's voice ringing clearly,

"See you later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you."

_What was…_

Finn jogs to Poe, scratching his neck nervously as he hurries to catch up. He slouches more often lately, as if weighed by his musings. Or by playing reluctant peacekeeper between her and Poe, both of them too stubborn to cede any ground when bickering.

(Probably sensed her own guilt before. For getting upset before making sure they were alright.)

Rey supposes she gets along with Poe for the most part, assigned to enough missions and projects together to create a certain level of comfort & camaraderie. More Finn's friend, really. And sometimes he just rubs her the wrong way. 

Mentioning her attachment to the Millennium Falcon was the perfect barb to sting. Poe grew up on crowded bases, recycling through countless ships, and navigating tight corridors teeming with uniformed soldiers. His level of normal is nothing like hers at all. Chewie's sentiments for the Falcon may run deeper, but the ship reminds her of a time when her life seemed much smaller. Doesn't even provide a sense of comfort, nostalgia, or inspiration, just…

It's one of her only tangible mementos of a far slower pace. With less obligations, expectations, and responsibilities. Before everything changed. Maybe something similar bothers Finn. A growing distance like waiting for something to happen.

Took time for both of them to adjust this past year, often seeking each other out to take hikes and just get a break. He's still her closest friend (she hopes he feels the same). Her stomach sinks as he shrinks beneath the trees, wishing she could emulate a Jedi as she imagines them to be. Peaceful. Meditative. Rational. Serene. Even if that's not how she'd describe the only one she knew personally.

Rey checks the Falcon one more time with crossed arms. Spots Rose approaching the ship with her datapad, already directing extra personnel back to their stations. The woman acknowledges her with a nod. Listlessness clouds her usually cheery disposition, same as when she pulled aside Rey the other day.

_"Rey? Has Finn… said anything to you lately?"_

_"About what?"_

_"About… me? Or anything like that?"_

_"No… nothing out of the ordinary, I mean."_

_"He's just acting… like he's avoiding me. I don't know if I did something…"_

_"I don't think so, he's been distracted lately for sure."_

Not unlike herself. Rey meets Rose's thin smile with one of her own, waving before she leaves the runway. Their interactions have always been pleasant. She invites Rey to join gatherings despite her frequent refusals. Too many names to remember, sideways glances, and awkward requests for demonstrations of her abilities.

(A part of her says she should be grateful instead of ambivalent after so many years of desiring more company…)

Rey decides she needs some time alone before assembly, though that's how she's spent most of today already. And yesterday. Trying to hide from that foreboding that intensifies with increased frequency.

She walks at a clipped pace, watching her feet with her hood covering most of her face. Forgetting the mission's purpose makes her uneasy, Rey struggles to recall if she was told in the first place. Just saw the ship streaking the sky on her way to the mess hall, and found Rose to ask where it went. Rey takes the longer way to the barracks, winding past the domed storage modules. The trees grow shorter & closer in this patch of jungle, with less crowded paths below the lower canopy. The squat domes are of varying age, some still outfitted with manual locks. A wind blows gently, giving her some relief from the planet's eternal humidity — 

Rey pauses hearing a dull thump among the rustling leaves.

One of the doors is slightly ajar, creaking to a halt in the subsiding breeze. She exhales slowly through her nose, turns to see a unit opened innocently. Someone probably forgot to lock it, more accustomed to automated entries.

Rey advances cautiously like she may be seen. Pokes her head into the windowless storage to confirm it's empty, illuminated by a single beam of sunlight across the dirt floor. She spots rations, aid kits, sparkstones, and various other supplies. Peeks over her shoulder. The pathway is clear.

She flips on the artificial light and closes the door, slinging her pack on her elbow to unfasten the latch. Grabs one of each item, ignoring the check-out ledger in favor of her scavenger's instincts.

_Poaching some supplies is a fair trade for how heavily they've all relied on her._

Rey snatches her hand away before taking any more.

_…A fair trade._

She swallows the lump forming in her throat, clasps her pack shut. Smooths her hair & clothes with wide clumsy motions in a rush to leave. She spins to face the exit —

And freezes with a gasp.

A familiar silhouette blocks the doorway.

"Rey."

Kylo's voice levels the air in the room. He wears his standard uniform, including the cape he's added since becoming Supreme Leader. She drops her bag, eyes widening when she recognizes the object in his gloved hands.

The helmet. Pieced together with bright red adhesive, her limbs going hollow with the memory of fleeing him on Takodana. Waking up strapped to a chair to find him on his knee. Being hunted and guarded by a creature in a mask.

Seems like ages ago now, before she saw his face.

"Ren," she croaks.

He notices her shock. Raises the mask to examine the vents with a steeled focus. Similar to the times she's seen him with his grandfather's warped & melted helmet this past year. Waiting for voices, just like her. Could be seeking guidance. Or does it from decades of habit, not used to his thoughts now being his own.

"Isn't it interesting how the Force always brings us together?" Kylo speaks down to the mask. "No matter how much you try to stay away?"

Gloomy as usual. "Nice to see you too."

He sets the helmet down on an unseen surface. It hovers midair for a moment before fading to disappear without his touch. Longer than objects used to before.

His eyes dart up to hers. "We have a lot to discuss."

She presses her lips to a line. "Really."

Her casual tone catches him off-guard, but he continues without missing a beat. "You're in danger."

Likely story. "From your troops? Whose fault is that?"

"Something bigger than that. And —"

Rey picks up her bag, dusts off the bottom and interrupts, "Cut to the chase. This isn't a good time."

His jaw tenses. "Emperor Palpatine wants you dead."

He says it flatly like that's all she needs to know.

"…Who?"

"Leader of the Empire. Darth Vader's master —"

"I… didn't remember the name." Galactic History wasn't exactly Rey's top priority on Jakku. She sidesteps the unintended show of ignorance. "What difference does it make? He's not the only one."

Kylo continues, "Palpatine was revived by devoted worshippers of the Sith through a lengthy ancient ritual that was… prompted by a Dark awakening in the Force."

The choice of words gives her pause. A picture from her dreams flits through her thoughts — craning her neck to see the ceiling of a cavernous room, barely visible above soaring monuments & obelisks worn from centuries of decay. Faint voices echo, drawing her deeper into the sanctuary…

Rey hopes her expression hasn't changed. "So what?"

Kylo moves closer, glancing down her figure briefly. "The trail's being laid out for you right now. Follow it to your death or to our shared destiny."

Her breath hitches, silencing her prepared retort. Her pulse thumps faster, replaying the chorus's strange tune luring her towards a raised platform. The Force churning with excitement as a jagged stone throne sharpens into focus —

"Darkness has risen to meet the Light." Kylo takes another step nearer. "That change. You've felt it too."

_The static. The subtle shift in her perception of the Force, charging from within instead of flowing through her surroundings. The eerie sense of being watched._

"S- So what?" she repeats, evading a response. She cuts past Kylo to the door, growing flustered feeling his stare on her back. "I don't have time for this — this game —"

"It's not a game. We've devoted our troops to the Emperor's Final Order."

Her hand stops over the latch, hesitating instead of severing the connection to leave. Kylo presses,

"And he wants me to bring you to him to complete the ritual." A pause. "But that's only one version of the end."

Then silence. Heavy with an unspoken implication that she already knows. Kylo's seen her wake up frightened in a cold sweat, but they haven't discussed the content of her dreams. She's never offered. He's never asked.

The lock engages with a clunk.

Rey twirls to face him, leans with her palms flat against the door. Quiet outside, no one strolling by to overhear her talking aloud in a seemingly empty room. The artificial light bends unevenly around Kylo's broad frame and the sweeping lines of his cape, skewed by his ship's crisp cycled air.

"Why should I believe you?" she counters. "How do you know this anyway?"

"Because he told me."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

Her insides twist recalling Finn's summary of the mole's newest transmission. _Located a fleet two days ago. Made contact yesterday._ Her tether to the bond cinches with a longing that isn't her own — and Rey tells herself she shouldn't be curious, shouldn't be asking Kylo to elaborate anymore —

"A- And what is this? A threat? A warning?" Rey sputters, fingers tapping the door as Kylo toes closer. His deliberate footsteps are louder than they should be, prompting a chill down her spine.

"An offer," he explains. "To follow the calling inside you. To have what you've really wanted all along."

He rests his hands above her on the entry, using his height to cage her in. She tilts up her chin defiantly, biting the skin behind her lip. The space flowers with the scent of his soap & sweat, making him feel very **near**. Their bond hums agreeably, encouraged by his proximity.

"You have no idea what I want," Rey tuts, glaring into his penetrating gaze.

"But I do know what you dream. And the parts you forget when you wake —"

Her cheeks flush. "N- No, you don't."

"Yes. I do." Another beat. "I have them too."

The alignment she found in meditation wobbles precariously, lurching with anticipation and dread. Her breaths shallow, her tits rising as she inhales deeply. Their connection stirs again, easing open with a steady warmth —

He bends down and whispers, "You want to see?"

— An energy courses her veins like a soothing draught, linking their bond with a tauter weave. She answers before she fully thinks,

"Y- Yes…"

And lowers her mental defenses to accept his entry. A push feathers the barrier to her mind, sliding upward like his fingertips along her entrance only some days ago. The storage dims, the artificial illumination rusting to flickering red shadows — 

Rey wets her lips unconsciously.

They shut their eyes.

He locates her point of vulnerability, pierces her thoughts with shared unconscious memories. Lightning strikes to emphasize a throne's serrated edges, circling like a sunburst around the single stone seat. The same chair the chorus entices her to seek, no longer obscured by dull pale blue. Two spectral figures occupy the perch, swaying rhythmically with harsh slapping sounds.

"You feel that?" Kylo asks.

She nods, her clothes too tight on her skin. The image crisps to reveal a humanoid woman straddling a man's lap, his large hands crumpling her black robes above her waist to display their tangled legs. Her knees spread wide, hips bobbing up & down to expose the man's thick glossed length. He buries his face in her chest, biting her tits and shoulders as her uninhibited noises reverberate in the vast sanctuary — their obscene show defiling the hallowed place —

Rey shudders. "I see it…"

"We could have the entire galaxy." His tone pools a heat between her thighs. "Under our command."

_The woman's moans shift to panting words,_

_"It's so much, I'm so —"_

(Rey recognizes her own voice, flinches sensing Kylo's breaths against her neck.)

She says, "A Jedi doesn't desire those… kinds of things —"

"Are you sure?"

Her cunt clenches, the vision mesmerizing her with its searing physicality.

_…Not sure at all, really._

— The hands pull off her robes to bare her skin, dropping them beside her wraps already coiled on the floor. She throws her head back and cries out,

_"Oh gods! Please —"_

And Rey gasps again in the storage room, heart racing with exhilaration and shame when she sees Kylo beneath her on the throne. Gripping her waist to bounce her faster on his cock, jaw slack with wonder as he admires the way he disappears inside her body. She pulls his hair, angling him forward to fuck her deeper as he urges,

_"Come real hard for me?"_

"Yes," she murmurs aloud.

He chuckles mirthlessly, mostly in disbelief. "You like that?"

"I —"

"Seeing yourself begging for my cock?"

Rey peels her eyes open, blushing down to her collarbone. She shrinks against the door, Kylo's mouth only inches from her ear. He's never said anything like… that around her before —

"Using me to fill yourself tight?"

(And she hates how hot it makes her, hearing him narrate the scene.)

"Y- Your idea of shared destiny looks more like a fantasy to me," she stammers, shuffling her feet.

Her nose scrunches smelling her own arousal. She clasps her thighs closer together, praying he doesn't notice. He shifts his jaw and meets her gaze once more.

"But you do like it. I can tell." A smirk lifts his joyless mein. "Seizing that Darkness instead of hiding it away."

Rey shakes her head, his words cutting to the quick. His features are hardened with the stoic resolve he found when turning his family's blade to strike down Snoke. Now peering through their connection to see how frequently the sanctuary invades her dreams.

"You have a lot of nerve," she sneers. "Storming off the other day and coming back with an ultimatum like —"

"An offer," he repeats. "We go to Emperor Palpatine together —"

She raises her hand. "We're done here."

Kylo furrows his brows, surprised by her interruption. "I said before. We have a lot to discuss —"

"I don't care. Not a good time," she answers bitterly. 

The siren call for assembly wails on cue, snapping Rey back to Ajan Kloss. The storage unit. The high humidity. The harsh white lights. Her bag filled with pilfered supplies and no time to return to her quarters.

"I have to go," she mumbles, less certain than intended.

"Go. Of course," he seethes.

Kylo turns on his heels, crossing the room and halting before an unseen surface. He studies the empty space and says,

"Have you wondered why you feel it? That Darkness —"

"No," she lies.

"You'll follow it either way."

The helmet reappears in Kylo's hands, the red cracks somehow brighter than before. A determination ignites his features, a fervent desperation to achieve what he believes to be fate.

Completely different from all the other times she's seen him this past year. The contrast is more alluring than alarming (even though it shouldn't be), kindles that little part of herself that liked what she saw… the little part she showed Kylo in her bed the other day.

_Another pang of regret for getting carried away —_

Rey hears laughter outside, a group of Resistance members passing by on their way to assembly. She checks to confirm the lock's engaged, still rattled by the intensity of the vision. By the thrill she felt seeing her body completely wild and free. By the memory of Kylo's hands spanning her middle, covering her breasts, dipping into her cunt to calm her nerves and sleep against his chest. 

The mask unfastens with a metallic clack. Kylo resumes, "Your decision. But if you try to undermine the Final Order's efforts with your band of traitors —"

A vision of recoiling from Kylo and his henchmen in the pouring rain, gripping her with the fear she felt at Maz's hideout all those months ago. It dissipates immediately as Kylo concludes,

"— We'll be forced to intervene. And if you try to go out alone —"

He looks up from the helmet to meet her eyes once more. His gaze softens with a note of… concern.

"— I'll find you anyway."

He raises the mask above his head, lowers it with precise practiced movements to cover his face. It locks with a resonating click, regressing them to this old boundary by concealing his expressive features. Maybe he chases an intoxicating rush towards some new & unknown potential, that same surge of capability she felt on the obstacle course…

But the suggestion that she requires his **help** is infuriating.

Rey counters, "I don't need your permission —"

"It's not about allowing you. I want —"

"I- I don't need your protection either."

His flattened voice through the modulator is unnerving. The unnatural lines of his mask darken his presence, their connection's binds agitating with his frustration,

"This is something bigger than both of us, Rey. And we're in it together, whether we like it or not."

_We._

Her throat dries. "I take it you don't like this either."

His breath dips low. "I offered you my hand. You declined."

"It's been a year," she reminds him.

"And the offer still stands."

The siren creaks at a higher pitch, indicating the five minute warning. Her pulse still thuds rapidly, her ears ringing when she hears a voice outside say,

"Just gonna close the light in this one, see it under the door —"

Footsteps plod towards the storage. Rey spins to inspect the room, verifies nothing's crooked or misplaced. Kylo adjusts his cape, saber hanging from its holster to complete the effect. She insists on getting the last word,

"If you expect the other night to happen again —"

His head snaps up. Even with the mask she can tell he's scrutinizing her face.

"— To happen again after this? You have another thing coming."

The lock jiggles and Rey leans against the door to keep it shut. The helmet notches his exhale deeper when Kylo responds,

"But you do want it to happen again. Don't you?"

Another bump on the handle. "Something's blocking the entry —"

(Kaydel Ko Connix, one of the few Resistance members whose voice Rey can identify without a face.)

"I really have to —"

"Right." Kylo pivots to leave, hands curling to fists by his sides. Visibly irritated and disheartened, expecting more than he received. He dissipates through the shelves along the wall, itching the skin against the strap of her pack.

Rey holds her breath, counts to three before stepping away from the entry. The lock unlatches and Kaydel topples over the threshold, sideways from shoving the door with her shoulder. Her long fingers pinch a master key.

She regains her balance, spots Rey a couple feet away with a sheepish smile. "I thought I heard…"

Rey offers a timid wave.

Kaydel continues, "Were you just talking in here, or…?"

Rey shrugs. Kaydel shakes her head. "Forget I said anything. You coming to assembly?"

"Yeah." Rey flips off the light, glances back to where Kylo vanished from the room. "Lead the way."

They walk to the hub in silence, the wailing sirens steering Rey's path and messy thoughts. Her trepidation is only worse, exacerbated by Kylo's talk of _death_ and _shared destiny_. The jungle's green is vibrant and strange, altered by the Force prodding her intuition — insisting that what Kylo told her is true —

That all these disruptions have a single source she can name:

**Darkness.**

That energy dwelling inside her, charged by her own grit. That static distorting her alignment in meditation and physical training. That recognition of her own potential and limitless ability, no longer trapped by the past's outdated traditions and another family's legacy. That temptation to chase her baser needs, craving to fill her body for relief. 

She crosses her arms over her chest to quiet her fluttering heart, unsure if these impulses come from this… event Kylo discussed. Or if she created them all on her own, from her own exasperation and growing isolation and a desire to belong and feel seen —

Rey peeks over at Kaydel, spots the woman stealing a glance at her profile. A group of pilots saunter by with goggles on their foreheads, mentioning a place that jogs her memory.

_Exegol._

They join the soldiers filing into the base's largest hanger. Rey pushes through the crowd to find Finn, mumbling "excuse me" and "pardon" as she bumps some elbows & toes on the way.

That sense of being watched remains, hanging over the gathering soldiers like a swinging blade. Poe fiddles with an audio descrambler, trading significant looks with Leia while the Resistance waits for one of them to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you again 💝


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a longer word count this time, hope that's okay 😅 Thank you so much for your feedback and enthusiastic response, been having a lot of fun with this & hope you are too 💝 Thank you [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for being an amazing beta 😘
> 
> Thank you again for reading. Enjoy 💕

"The new intel we've received from the mole is… not ideal."

Poe leans one elbow on an oversized crate at the front of the gathering crowd, presenting a casual manner despite his grave tone. He runs his fingers through his hair, turns to Leia to await her signal. She nods, standing beside him with straight shoulders and the effortlessly commanding air she passed on to her son.

"The First Order made a new alliance that added hundreds of ships to their fleet." Poe furrows his brows. "They're gathering troops and executing a plan to take us all out —"

"We'll hit 'em hard, disable their weaponry," a gruff voice shouts from the back.

Poe levels to his feet, takes a few steps away from the receiver with crossed arms. Rey sidles between a pair of barrel-shaped reptilians, spots Finn a few feet away from Poe towards the front of the group.

"Hear, hear!" Several members cheer, their shouts echoing in the hanger as someone adds,

"Show them what the Resistance is made of!"

Rey cringes when a creature next to her whistles in response, shrill and off-key. Finn hangs his head, shifts his weight uncomfortably. Rey follows his line of sight back to Poe, who clears his throat to silence the crowd.

"This is different." Poe raises his volume. "Enough firepower to wipe us out in one go. Mole says that Ren's forming a Final Order with — uh, with Emperor Palpatine —"

Several members gasp. Murmurs of conversation erupt around Rey and she squeezes through the crowd towards Finn. She blushes with her face down on her way to the front. Feels like everyone here recognizes the name immediately. Or the loudest people at least.

"What do you mean Emperor Palpatine?" a woman shouts incredulously. "He's been dead for decades."

Rey stops. She's bumped & jostled by careless elbows and inattentive comrades, their uniforms blurring to a green sea. Poe glances to Leia. She nods again. He says,

"Somehow… Palpatine has returned." There's a beat. "First Order received his transmission from the Outer Regions, Ren located the origin to broker the deal personally. Yesterday."

Rey manages a couple steps forward, nearly by Finn's side. He sits on another crate with his hands folded, watching Poe attentively. She hears a second protest in her vicinity,

"They picked up a message from a dead guy?"

Poe shrugs. "Well, looks like the dead speak."

Finn smiles, chuckles and shakes his head. Rey swallows hard, hears the static distorting her connection to the Force as a low buzzing in her ears. Poe's words wobble and dim as she draws closer to the front,

"Right now we don't know how Palpatine's returned, but that doesn't change the fact that his fleet — combined with the First Order's — will be showing up at our front door any minute if we…"

Her stomach churns, disgusted with herself for letting Kylo unnerve her in the storage. To have her curiosity piqued while he's planning to destroy the closest thing she has to a home.

(It's a place to sleep with friendly company at least.)

She listens to Poe again. "…Mole said that Ren flew out to some rock called Exegol. Haven't been able to locate it on any maps and Ren didn't enter the coordinates into his ship's logs. Got nothing to go on but…"

_Exegol._

That name she recognized before.

The buzzing slides to a higher pitch, muting the assembly. Finn scans the room, gestures for Rey to join him when he meets her eyes. Guilt tightens her chest, replaying Kylo's story:

_Sith worshippers performing an ancient ritual, prompted by a Dark awakening._

She frowns remembering his stare. The unspoken implication that it was her awakening and not his own.

_We have a lot to discuss._

But Rey doesn't say anything. She raises her index finger and mouths, "One minute."

Rey pushes through the crowd, the static refusing to dissipate. She escapes the throng at the front, breathlessly signals Leia that she's heading to the makeshift study she made on base. The General acknowledges her with a wink, stirring a moment's suspicion that Rey decides to set away. BB8 notices her hurrying to the side entrance, following dutifully to offer his assistance with cheerful beeps.

"I got it, thank you," she whispers in response, pausing to observe the droid return to the meeting.

Rey heads up a stairwell to the second story overlooking the hanger, too skinny for hallways with each room carved like cubbies on an open-air walkway. She holds onto the railing, peers down at her fellow soldiers gathering around Poe and Leia. Their matching clothes and palpable optimism makes the distance feel longer. Makes their numbers seem smaller.

_They have no kriffing chance_ that little part of her groans — 

She rifles through her pack, repositioning the extra supplies from storage to make room for books. Her hand shakes punching in the keycode, the entry opens with an exhausted creak. Her nook is small, probably used as a supply closet before she furnished the space with lumpy pillows, a threadbare blanket, a portable locker, and a detachable medpod food-tray she uses as a desk. Rey doesn't mind having no chair, using the nook for napping as often as reading. She pries open the locker, dumping the sacred Jedi texts into an inelegant pile on the floor. Takes the thinnest book from the top, bound with a tan scaled hide and filled with intricate charts & handwritten notes.

The text primarily deals with mysticism and a centuries-long search for a theory of cosmic balance — its implications for interdimensional travel, eternal life after death, and even the Force's potential mutability. She chews her lip thumbing through the worn pages, trying to jog her memory. Slams the open book on the desk when she locates a diagram of a spindling tower on a flat horizon with dotted lines radiating from all points like vines. She recognizes Luke's hand from some of his signed notes in the tome full of meditation passages, bold block letters beneath the tower's gate:

**EXEGOL**

But nothing in the drawing indicates a physical location. Nor any purpose. Or meaning.

She places her finger on the geometric grid scrawled into the lower-right corner. The form & pattern is similar to the ciphers she read about in the historical Jedi text, shapes used as keys to unlock features and hidden deeper meanings in messages. She's followed the steps without any results a few times, but not recently. The following page includes a block of crossed-out coordinates, one circled at the very bottom with "Pasaana" scribbled beside it. An arrow points to the next page, the coordinates rewritten above a drawing of a pyramid with heavily-embossed edges. Luke labelled it as a "wayfinder." And "Exegol" again, below the shape.

Name seems obvious enough. _Better than nothing._

Rey packs one more book, leaves the others in her locker, and rushes downstairs. Soldiers mill around the hanger, drifting to the exits and socializing as they return to their stations. High Command lingers with Poe. Finn stands by his side, waves Rey over when he spots her across the room. She navigates through the leaving groups, awkwardly handling the text with her finger wedged as a bookmark on the wayfinder's page. Nearly stumbles over BB8 when he scoots by her ankles, curious as usual. Her thoughts race too much about the potential knowledge hidden by the cipher, forgetting to concentrate on her blank white screen —

"What did you find?" Finn asks as she approaches.

Rey lays the book on the crate in the middle of the circle. "Exegol. Maybe. Luke has some notes about it here."

The group crowds in to see the pages. Rey keeps her voice steady and continues,

"Wrote it beneath a- a wayfinder." Points to the coordinates. "That may be here. On Pasaana."

Poe crosses his arms, steps back to let Leia lean in to examine the drawing. He says, "So we go to Pasaana, get it, and then what?"

Leia peeks her head up with a mischievous smile. "Think there's a decent chance this wayfinder will help us find our way. Any other ideas, Commander?"

Poe shrugs. Finn scans the text with his finger hovering slightly above the old paper, treating it with more reverence than she does. "Anything on how to use it?"

"Don't think so," Rey answers. "Found this too…"

She flips to the drawing of the tower and Finn straightens abruptly, distracting Poe from the book. Rey swallows hard, glances over to see Leia's reaction. The general's expression remains unchanged as Rey suggests,

"…Which appears to be on Exegol itself. From Luke's caption at least. I can head out to Pasaana, get this wayfinder, and —"

"I?" Finn interjects.

She blinks. "Yeah, take one of the ships and locate the wayfinder to Exegol."

"We," he insists, indicating Poe. The pilot presses his lips to a line, but Finn doesn't notice. "We'll come with you."

Her stomach lurches, recalling Kylo's warning:

_I'll find you anyway —_

Rey shakes her head. "It's too dangerous."

Finn lowers his voice. "You don't have to do this alone. We can help you. We're a team, right?"

(To some degree. Sometimes it feels that way.)

"I —"

"You're not going alone." 

All turn to Leia. Her tone makes it clear there is no room for protest,

"Dameron, Chewie. You're going along too. D'Acy, relay to grounds crew to have the Falcon prepared for immediate departure. Get Tico to mission control for communications. Prep for five standard days, reconvene at the runway."

Everyone disperses. Rey hesitates, packing away the book and tuning out the conversations echoing in the hanger. Senses a gaze on her spine, a gentle push along her mental barriers —

(Again.)

She spins around, raising her defenses to prevent the intrusion, hello, signal, whatever it was. Leia hunches over with a wracking cough, D'Acy clapping her back. Finn walks in stride with Poe, glances over his shoulder with a perfunctory wave on their way out. No one else catches her eye.

Can't let her guard down anymore. The realization makes her uneasy.

Rey hurries to prepare for the mission, tearing through her quarters for her blaster and extra snacks. She passes some mechanics leaving as she jogs to the runway, their hands & cheeks covered with oil, sweat, and grease. Two of them greet her, another ignores her, the last openly averts his gaze. The airstrip buzzes with activity, her mandated companions already scattered around the Falcon when she arrives. The ship is in surprisingly decent shape, scrubbed down and soldered together. Even the exhaust casing ring's already been replaced. Poe and Chewie pace up the loading ramp with supplies. C3PO jabbers to Leia by the Falcon's polished nose.

Rey overhears Finn and Rose as she nears the general, the pair speaking close to one another by the perimeter of uncleared trees. He looks down at his feet, kicking up dirt, only half-listening to Rose.

"…Are you sure? Finn, you know you can tell me anything —"

"I will. When I get back. It's not a big deal, really —"

"I'm just worried about you…"

"Don't be, I'm okay, I promise…"

Rey increases her pace, figures she probably shouldn't listen anymore. Chewie growls and points behind her when she reaches the loading ramp, says that Leia's waiting. C3PO totters to the ship and announces,

"I've researched the coordinates and —"

"You too?" Poe groans. "Alright, alright, let's wrap this up —"

Rey pulls up her hood, masking the runway's noise & bustle. Adjusts her wraps to busy her hands, honing her focus on the blank white screen. The Resistance moves around her with practiced patterns and clipped efficiency, completing their departure routines. Leia addresses her with a warm smile,

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Rey replies, displaying her bag at her hip. "As ready as I can be."

Comes out more lamely than intended. Leia instructs, "Make sure one of you remembers to relay Exegol's location once you have that wayfinder." She raises an eyebrow. "And Rey?"

Her face pales, the woman's sharp insightful stare conveying both compassion and worry. She speaks lightly but the words carry an odd weight,

"No matter what anyone tells you. Or what happens. Remember your power, your resilience and strength, your kind heart… that's all yours. You did that on your own." Leia pauses. "Do you understand?"

Not really. "I- I think so?"

A wistful glimmer softens Leia's eyes. She rests her palm on Rey's shoulder. "Well. Something to ponder then."

Her intentions are kind, but her air is distant. Rey repeats Leia's advice internally with a gulp. The woman bids,

"Are you alright?" She squeezes her shoulder.

"I'm okay," Rey says, echoing Finn. "I promise."

"Also…"

Leia leans nearer to avoid potential eavesdroppers. Rey flinches beneath the general's touch, her mind's blank canvas rippling from an unseen disturbance. It reminds Rey that Leia's become a mentor, but that a certain reticence will always stay. She's not her mother. Their trust is tentative.

_Hard to believe it's only been a year —_

"…I know you've been seeing Ben." A pause. "He can still come home. If he wants to."

Hope lifts her smile wider.

Rey's heart drops to her knees.

Leia pats her arm. The static flares beneath the white screen with a nervous energy. A part of her wants the woman to bend for an embrace, yet the tension winds too tightly between her ribs to move. The general bids,

"May the Force be with you."

Leia drops her hand, pivots to leave. The airstrip drops to a silence, Rey's awareness of the Force slipping into higher gear like a faulty speeder shift. Happening more frequently throughout the day. She breathes slowly, the runway's dust drying her throat. Leia halts after only a couple steps, turns round and says with an unnerving finality,

"And Rey?"

She croaks, "Yes?"

"…I'm sorry."

Rey stammers, "W- What for?"

Leia just nods and continues on her way. Rey coughs, itches her skin beneath the armband covering her scar. She trudges to the Falcon in a daze, reeling from her bizarre conversation with Leia. Wondering if she'll be sick, roiling with nausea from her shame. Has no idea how long Leia's known, no idea why the sky seems tilted like everything is shifting towards some huge change. 

She checks back upon reaching the ramp and the general is already gone.

"Ready to go?" Poe shouts from the entry.

"Coming!" Finn calls.

"Me too." Rey bounds into the ship, hood falling down. She spots Finn & Rose kissing one another goodbye in her periphery.

Maybe whatever's going on with them's been solved already. Finn would tell her. If he wanted her to know. The idle thought isn't compelling enough to distract from her bewilderment. She struggles to remember an interaction that could explain why Leia ended their talk the way she did:

_I'm sorry._

Poe takes the cockpit and this time Rey doesn't protest, relieved to be without responsibility. Chewie is copilot and Finn sits with them upfront, chatting and cracking jokes. The three of them are too engaged & entertained by each other to notice her leave. BB8 rolls about happily by Poe's knees. Her head swims with too many possibilities to be offended, accustomed to being a third wheel, whether Finn is with Poe or Rose. She evades C3PO's small-talk attempts by sticking her nose in the historical Jedi text from her bag. He continues to prattle supplementary facts & figures until she shuts herself in one of the bunks, finally getting the hint when she creates a physical barrier. Makes it clear to give her space.

The trip to Pasaana is only a few hours, using the hyperspeed channel's cargo ship expressways. Rey lies on the small lounge in the room, skimming the book for information on wayfinders. All she finds is that they're similar to Jedi star compasses, used by Sith instead.

A single sentence. She sighs and stares at the ceiling, bites her cheek and reminds herself that the Emperor wants her to come. If Kylo is to be believed…

_No matter what anyone tells you. You did that on your own._

…That portion of Leia's speech sticks most. Even though Rey still doesn't understand.

Rey sits up, grabbing the other text and balancing it on her knees. She returns to the tower, unfocusing her vision on the cipher and hoping to reveal the concealed text on the page. Still nothing. She thumbs past the coordinates, the wayfinder picture, and scans the next few portions inattentively. Most of the writing is almost too faded to read, suggesting nothing added in decades at least. The ship's low in-flight vibrations lull her to relax, yawning as she flips further —

She freezes, blood running cold. A flow chart with names & arrows spans the centerfold. One branch terminates in the lower-left corner with three letters in dark new ink:

**Rey**

Her heart races with suspicion, eyes darting to the blank space above her name and another in almost illegible script:

**Sidious**

The book flops onto her lap, thumps limply onto the floor.

Only a handful of days that Luke could have written her name. For some reason the image of him doing so makes her sick, sours her already confused memories of Ahch-To. She recalls his fear when he admonished her for chasing the whispers calling to her from the underground cave. How Luke curled his lip in anger when she accused him of creating Kylo Ren, standing with her blade like he did over Ben Solo's bed…

The descent notification blares over the loudspeakers, jarring her to the ship. Her hands tremble putting the books in her bag — scolding herself for never noticing before, for only giving this text a cursory reading, even though she's certain she's looked at the whole thing —

Maybe the cipher worked. Or maybe she's really unobservant, or —

Rey startles seeing C3PO two inches from her nose when she keys open the doorway. "Kriff, 3PO, I didn't hear you."

He chirps, "Was just coming to let you know —"

"Landing, yeah." Rey steps past him with a sigh. "Alarm's going off."

Atmospheric entry goes smoothly. Poe flies low over the coordinates' location, finds no suitable terrain for landing. Rey peers through the cockpit, her initial excitement to visit a new planet dampened by seeing… sand. The familiar landscape isn't unwelcome, but experiencing novel climates is her preference after a lifetime of flat expanses and swinging temperatures on Jakku. Chewie locates a valley on the topographical radar, directing Poe to park on a flat plain some yards from the edge. The crew saunters down the ramp, stretching their limbs and cracking their joints after an already-long day.

"Well," Poe remarks as the ship closes. "Here we are. Pasaana."

"Remind you of anywhere, Rey?" Finn offers genially, hands hiding in his pockets.

"Oh, um…" She forces a thin smile. "Jakku. Yeah."

BB8 bleeps in agreement. C3PO starts giving a temperature and climate readout, huffs with frustration when Chewie mimics his frenetic energy with garbled grunts. Poe falls in stride with Finn, the pair continuing to pal around like she isn't there. She walks ahead of the group, clouds of sand tanning her white pants below the knees.

Her pack bobbles on her hip, her boots leave prints in the sand. Rey considers that she should tell the others she may know how Palpatine returned. But she can't bear the thought of all of them gawking at her at once, BB8 bouncing at her heels. The suns are high at their backs, the planet's morning only several standard hours ago. Hears Finn's laughter behind her, wonders if there's a way to speak with him alone. His voice dims beneath a rapid thumping beat —

Like drums. The sounds fall into a rhythm as they swing around a final cliff before the valley. Flutes & bells fill in to create a hollow melody, swelling louder as the vista comes into view.

Her mouth drops at the scene. The canyon is teeming with colorful kites, streamers, and wooden towers with flags like spokes. Locals swarm the rows of countless stands and crowd in circles around performers. The creatures are pale gray with long bi-tendril snouts, draped in boldly dyed robes. Other sentients mill around, far fewer in number and equally swept into the celebration. Rocky plateaus litter the horizon, soaring high to cloister the location from almost all distant vantage points. Rey is captivated by the spectacle, barely registers her companions standing by her side.

"Perfect," Poe complains. She can picture his face from his needling whine. "Perfect timing."

"The Festival of the Ancestors," C3PO informs them excitedly, delighted to demonstrate his usefulness. "Hosted by the Aki-Aki every 42 years in Pasaana's Forbidden Valley —"

"You didn't think to mention this on the way here?" Poe questions. "Sure you haven't fried a few circuits overusing those protocols?"

"Commander, if you had granted me entry into the cockpit when I requested —"

Finn chuckles and shakes his head. Steps closer to Rey and murmurs, "These two, I swear…"

3PO's unctuous programming rubs Poe the wrong way just as much as his brashness grates her. Rey keeps silent to mask her enthusiasm from their unimpressed commander, inwardly marveled by the display. Finn seems interested too, rifling through his bag to take out his binoculars.

"…The festival is famous for its colorful kites and delectable sweets," C3PO prattles on. "Established as a way of honoring the past and setting a hopeful tone for the future."

"Eh," Poe comments dismissively, catching up to Rey and Finn. "Every planet's got something."

Rey spots a pair of blubbery scaly creatures taking long swigs of a glowing drink. They swerve into one another and belch flames, cackling in an intoxicated haze.

"…Usual crowds here for a good time," Poe narrates to Finn as he tunes the binoculars. "Coordinates are past this valley, more rough terrain…"

Their commentary fades into the music as Rey breaks from the group to descend the sloping cliffside. Her companions are too preoccupied to see her leave, still plotting their next steps instead of appreciating the event's rarity. She takes a pathway lined with tapestries, frowns when she looks back and sees none of them follow. Reaches the bottom and draws her hood back up with a sigh, walking towards the food stands and getting lost in the crowd.

A thick syrupy sweetness tempers the smell of firepits & roasting meats, making her bottomless stomach growl. But she barely has any credits, unwraps a snack bar from her pack instead. Rey strolls around aimlessly, the drum circles' competing tunes becoming a disorganized mess as she rushes between aisles — not entirely sure what she seeks —

Frustration hampers her begrudging attempt to enjoy herself. Angry with her friends for shafting her as usual. Upset with her mentors for deceiving her, struggling to view their secrets as anything less than a betrayal after seeking their guidance for a year. Her irritation spikes her nerves to peaks of rage, her heart pounding as she grows more unsettled. Her alignment teeters working to dismiss her impulsive conclusions, their whispers ringing in her ears even as she pushes them away:

_Finn moved on.  
Leia doesn't trust you.  
Luke knew something.  
The Resistance is using you.  
You don't fit in —_

_…Follow it to your death or to our shared destiny._

The dark suggestions feel almost physical. External. Unraveling her mental defenses to a meditatively receptive state, like the Force itself taps her shoulder and tells her to pay attention. Aki-Aki walk past to swarm performers and vendors and chase after children, ignoring Rey standing still in the center of a pathway. She tightens her grip on her pack, biting her cheek to center her focus.

That hurt. Rage. Darkness. Confusion. It doesn't go away. A part of her says that there is one person who would understand. But she's isn't sure if that's the Force or a silly idea of her own —

"I can sense it. Your uncertainty."

Rey spins around hearing Kylo's voice.

The fog dissipates, a blaring horn and clanging cymbals stirring her to move. She marches out of the aisle, eyes darting around trying to spot Kylo. A gaggle of younglings blast confetti several yards up ahead, the fireworks coating the dirt with silvery flakes like paper snow. They sparkle from a certain angle, catching the sun to light her way to a fork in the trail of tents. The directions on the sign are written in a language she doesn't understand. The horn sounds again, leading Rey down one path that widens to an open courtyard with lines of children sitting before a raised stage.

Almost all of them sing. Mostly in unison, only a couple seconds of dissonance with the conductor waving a sparkling baton at the front. Adolescent Aki-Aki weave through the rows of children with arms full of necklaces strung with thick beads. One stops before Rey and bows their head with a grunt. Rey parts her lips, grinning with her teeth as she mirrors their greeting. The creatures leans forward and gives her one of the necklaces, circling it around her neck with a chipper click and wink.

"Thank you," Rey says.

The creature wanders away, feet shuffling in time with the children's beat. She swallows hard, fidgeting with the beads. The air thins like the bond opens again and she halts upon hearing her name,

"Rey!"

This time Finn shouts it from somewhere unseen. The syllable cuts loud above the din of the crowd, followed by a wookiee's growling screech:

"Rey!"

Her instincts urge her to hurry, prompting her to rush into a packed aisle of busy dessert vendors putting on a candy-making display. Even Poe is calling for her, ringing clear from several yards out,

"REY!"

She confirms her face is concealed by her white hood, pushes to weave her way through the crowd. Her stride is more confident than in the Resistance hanger despite her insides lurching with fear…

_Now they've come looking for her._

(She idly wonders how long it took for them to realize she was missing.)

But the festival still feels strange and far away, as if watching it next to her ghost instead of through her own eyes. The Force hums with anticipation, relaxing her tether to the connection with Kylo —

"REY!" Finn screams.

— Her awareness is swamped, overwhelmed by the sounds and colors and cacophony of voices. The static joins to drown it into a single terrible buzzing noise with thudding drums and children wailing and —

**"Rey."**

That perfect silence returns again.

Her eyes widen seeing Kylo at the end of the row. Standing tall with squared shoulders, still wearing his crackled mask. His presence calms the energy swarming her thoughts and faculties. And somehow the bond seems stronger, weighed with that longing she's sensed before…

One that she knows is not her own.

"You've left your base," he states plainly, tone flattened by the modulator. "I can see sand on your knees."

Kylo walks straight towards her, the festival slowing as he closes the distance between them. His cape whips with a breeze from a vendor's fan, framing him like a dark reaper among the Aki-Aki's colorful kites & robes. She can tell Kylo won't let her evade this conversation from his determined gait. Even if she told him she was standing with her friends.

"Rey…"

Finn and the rest of them barely register, the syllable drifting with the wind.

"I knew you would go anyway," Kylo tuts. "Even after warning you that you're running into harm's way."

Rey glances over her shoulder. Sunlight glints off 3PO's shiny gold head. Finn and Poe push through attendees, Chewie lumbering behind them anxiously. She shoves a hand in her holster, clutches her inactive communicator. Off as usual.

"My offer is just that dreadful?" Kylo asks. Even the helmet can't hide his slight waver. "You'd rather march to your death than be by my side?"

Her heart leaps to her throat. Both Kylo and her friends are closing in. She trembles in response,

"N- No, it's not that —"

"Then what is it, Rey?" he demands. "I haven't lied to you, but it suits you fine to lie to me —"

Only a couple feet from her now. His stare feels hard and near, even behind the mask. Rey stutters,

"I can't — I can't talk right now —"

"Of course," he seethes. "Always ready with an excuse —"

"REY!"

— She sprints past Kylo, cutting around a wooden tower by a row of shuttered changing stalls. Her breaths are shallow and she keeps checking behind her, vision blurring with tears. She waves for Kylo to follow, raising her finger and mouthing "one minute." Her cheeks flush deeply when it dawns on her what she's doing:

_Hiding from her companions to talk to the Supreme Leader privately._

The transgression excites her a little bit more than she'd like to admit. She finds an empty stall, the tiny enclosed space about the same size as her closet on base. Rey closes the door, shuts her eyes, leans on the wall opposite a long crooked mirror, and wills her pulse to slow.

The festival carries on without her. She hears her companions calling for her by the wooden tower, trailing off as they continue their dutiful search. The music, noise, and dust are much more than anything she's ever experienced on Jakku —

She swallows hard. Straightens her posture.

Holds her breath as Kylo locates her, phasing through the locked entry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you 🙂


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the longer time between updates. Real life and various things came up along the way. Longest chapter so far (~8k words), hope that makes up for it 😅
> 
> Thank you so so much again for your feedback and responses, flattered you're enjoying and excited to keep going. Thank you [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for all your help.
> 
> Tags Added: mutual masturbation + references to alcohol
> 
> Enjoy 💞

"What are you doing?"

The changing room feels even more cramped with Kylo inside, looming with his mask flattening his voice. She shrinks against the wall, just like in the storage only some hours ago. Her eyes dart to the helmet's vents, up further to where his eyes should be.

"I'm on a mission," she replies coolly. "For the Resistance."

"The Resistance," he echoes, "I see."

He stands near without knowing they're in an enclosed space. Tilts his head slightly when he asks,

"And are they with you right now?"

She swallows, not pausing intentionally. "No."

"Left them to go be alone?"

Her chest tightens with guilt again, hearing her name being shouted once more above the crowd. Drums & bells overwhelm the sound, drowning out Finn's voice as the group wanders away. Muffled conversations and laughter provide their own murmuring rhythm above the instruments' beats — 

She's on a new planet during an enormous raucous event, heart racing with Kylo's scent and warmth so close.

"…Yes," she answers.

Rey expects him to tease her to elaborate, but his tone is serious and grim. Or it seems to be with his mask on, imposing a distance between them by hiding his expressive features.

"I felt it before. Your uncertainty." The modulator keeps his words crisp through the festival's bustle just outside the locked stall. "Is that why you left?"

 _More anger than uncertainty._ An impulse borne of frustration that cinched in the spaces between her ribs, the dark sentiments stirring that perception of the Force charging internally. She walked off her mission and avoided her companions' attempts to find her. Bid Kylo to follow when she slipped away through the crowd to somewhere she won't be seen.

And it felt kind of nice to steer her own mission for once. Instead of listening to Leia or Poe or the Resistance's schedules & routines. But even if the opened bond seems to calm the static unsettling her nerves, she knows better than to speak with Kylo too candidly.

"Why do you want to know?" she asks.

"Just curious," he says, evading a response. "What are you really doing?"

"I'm on a mission," she repeats.

There's a beat. "Tight space?"

Rey presses her lips to a line, glances down at how she situates her limbs. She relaxes her shoulders, inches her heels from the wall and mumbles,

"It's… fine."

Kylo keeps his distance, still a foot away and partially blocking the cloudy half-length mirror. The slatted roof cuts uneven stripes of light on his cracked helmet. A hook juts out from the thin wooden wall, her pack hanging innocently. The door looks crooked with a solid bolt. Rey inhales deeply, hardens her stare before meeting Kylo's… eyes once more.

The mask doesn't intimidate her, but the memory of being found in the forest on Takodana makes her feel small and strange. Forms a lump in her throat as she recalls fleeing from Kylo, convinced he was a creature stalking her through the endless green —

_I'll find you anyway._

"I'm not going to tell you where I am," she preempts. "Don't bother asking."

He doesn't. "I already know where you are."

She calls his bluff. "No you don't —"

"Pasaana. Planet's sigil's carved on your beads."

Kylo steps forward and she can hear his breaths, unnatural and mechanical. Her chest rises as she inhales, flinching when he pinches one bead between his fingers. Curved and shined white like a tooth, six or seven dangle on her necklace between swaths of tiny tan beads. She hasn't examined very closely yet. He flips it for her to see a stylized sun with two sickles crossed in an "x" through the circle.

"— Have their Festival of the Ancestors right now. A rare event," Kylo says.

Her cheeks flush, giving her away before she has a chance to hide it. He raises his wrist just high enough to avoid grazing her tits. His broad frame obstructs her view of the room. Kylo continues,

"Troops are stationed in the area in case anything goes awry. Reinforcements in the immediate airspace."

"As expected," she remarks.

Poe mentioned the possibility of First Order patrols in the Falcon's cockpit earlier, strategizing with Finn. The inactive communicator feels heavier than usual in her holster. They should know to watch out for stormtroopers without her warning them. 

(The justification works to assuage her conscience a bit longer at least.)

Kylo drops the bead, the necklace flopping to frame her breasts. A door claps a couple stalls away during the second of silence that follows. He says,

"…I'm not far from you at all."

Rey tries to appear less flustered than she really is. "Convenient."

"I agree."

She imagines a smirk lightening his voice but she doesn't really know. Their connection winds tighter, in time with her growing frustration.

"Why are you wearing that thing?" Rey snaps. "What are you trying to prove?"

His face usually betrays so much he won't say aloud. "I have nothing to prove. The First Order is under my command —"

She rolls her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "What are you really doing?"

"The mask is a symbol of respect to the Emperor." Kylo watches her narrowed eyes. "To show the loyalty of the Knights of Ren. Politics."

The static returns, buzzing low in her chest where she senses her tether to their bond. After Crait, everyone assumed she took out Snoke and she always just… let it be. As did Kylo, whose generals posted her bounty only days later. She enjoyed the compliments & credit received. Surely he appreciated eliminating a potential threat to his leadership.

Felt more like a thrilling secret, rather than betrayal or deceit. And now the thought of Kylo crawling back to kneel before another throne spoils the silver lining left on that whole… memory. She purposefully chooses her next words to sting,

"So you're wearing that thing to prove you've traded one master for another? To show the Emperor you're running to be under someone else's thumb —"

It works. He steps back, his anger flashing through their connection,

" **No** ," he seethes. "I'll be freeing myself of my master once and for all."

Rey expects him to elaborate, but he doesn't. Their bond strains with turbulent energy, like his declaration was made with knowledge that's raw & new. He takes a defensive posture, obviously working to maintain a strong tone,

"Why do you think I made this deal with Palpatine?"

He notices something, making Rey self-conscious that her features expose her doubts. Light catches the cracks in his mask again, the red caulking looking soldered into the material. He prods her further,

"Really tell me. You want to."

She frowns and straightens against the wall, refusing to confirm his guess. The stall feels lower than it did before. Rey reminds herself to steady her gaze when she deflects,

"I have my theories."

There's a beat.

"Say it."

— Challenging her charade instead of shrinking from her weak refusal. Wanting to _hear_ her worst assumptions. An impulse to strike his confidence again beats through her veins, stirring the Force churning _inside_ her like a dormant power creeping to be waked.

"Because you can't help yourself. From chasing the Dark," Rey answers. She wets her lips unconsciously. "And now you see a way to gain more power."

(That awareness she felt in meditation. That calling she heard to the cave on Ahch-To. That uncanny recognition when she read the few lines about the Dark in her texts, curled up in the nook on Ajan Kloss. All of it returns for a single heartbeat. Reminding her it's there.)

"No," he tuts. "That's not it."

…One of the competing drum circles outside fades into disorganized applause. The crowd disperses into pattering footsteps & unintelligible conversation. Several groups pass the row of changing stalls, most too engaged to pay them any mind.

Her pulse thuds to fill the dimmed volume. Her eyes dart to the locked door, instincts piqued by someone's approach —

**knock knock**

Rey flinches nonetheless, visibly draining as she creaks,

"O- Occupied!"

The Aki-Aki gurgles and enters the empty stall next to hers. The walls are thin enough for her to hear it shuffle around and disrobe. She tries to stay casual, but Kylo must know her location is not ideal.

"So — w- what is it then?" She stammers already, gestures to hurry him along. "You obviously want to tell me, so just —"

"Bad time?" he teases.

"It's always a bad time," she retorts.

Kylo draws nearer, his cape draping to settle by his belted boots. The darkness she remembered returns again, more vivid with this heartbeat. Reacting to the very same monster that took her from the woods onto his ship. She imagines the vents aligning with the beads to become teeth. He says,

"You're determined to see the Emperor alone. Despite being told that's exactly what he wants."

Rey toes to see around his shoulders. Spots a sliver of the dingy mirror sticking out behind one of his arms. The Aki-Aki dumps items on the floor, scattering from a bag to roll on the stone. She recoils against the wall, listens to it cursing & stumbling around.

"I- I don't need your protection," she reminds Kylo, lowering to a hiss. "I can handle myself just fine —"

"You do it because you're the one chasing the Dark, Rey."

_No —_

Her stomach flips like the planet hurtles to a stop. The humidity thickens as the Force swells from the desert sands, surfacing to unravel her defenses. She leaps to respond, all the words tasting like ash on her tongue,

"Don't act like you know me." Another heartbeat. "You don't know anything about —"

"You want to know why I made this deal with Palpatine?"

Kylo halts a single pace away. His presence feels more immediate, more vibrant than the celebration surrounding her. Sharper than any potential observer's, his prior comment cutting too close.

"Sure!" She relents to his line of questioning, throwing her hands up in defeat. Her voice raises, "You're just going to tell me anyway —"

**knock knock**

A quiet rap silences her with a gasp. A cue to remind her where she truly stands, to puzzle together what was & wasn't overheard. Kylo rests one palm flat beside her ear, leaning in for the modulator to articulate every breath,

"To overthrow my master once and for all. With you by my side."

There's a significant pause. Her cheeks beat red. The wall is firm on her shoulderblades, her back arching her tits out. Her eyes widen as he speaks, realizing the gravity when he swears,

"I've killed for you before. And I intend to do it again."

The mask filters his vow with a greater intensity. Hardens the stare she pictures on his angular face.

But hearing that. About her. After always being a second or third thought, except during times of need…

_Fuck, it makes her hotter than it should —_

She shifts her weight, attempts to dismiss her attraction aloud. "Y- You're mad —"

"I've never been more certain about anything."

His unsteady exhale fuzzes through the helmet, his promise hanging between them heavily. Their conversations replay in her mind… The recent ones, the older ones, the clipped greetings, the times they ignored one another, the times she fled appearing at awkward moments, the times she woke up frightened in a cold sweat…

"I sensed your uncertainty before. When you left your friends. To lead me here. Waved for me to follow —"

"Ben —"

No reaction to her using that name. "I know you feel it too."

And she assents even though she shouldn't, too curious to leave the bait,

"Feel what?"

"Your strength, your will," he murmurs. "Your Darkness. You want the same thing I do."

The finality of his statement is unnerving. The implied drive and devotion to destiny, to definition, to HER —

Their bond hums pleasantly, agitating a tension in her nerves that slides to her cunt. She presses her thighs together like an itch, heeding the urge immediately. Kylo places his other hand beside her, balancing on the wall to cage her in. All her senses seem heightened from the enclosed space, the strange circumstances, and his smell being so so close.

She tilts her chin up to hold his gaze.

Makes no move to duck or run away.

The door unbolts in the next stall, footsteps trailing out and away into the passing crowd. A pair of boots follow, the entry smacking shut and the lock clunking again. She shouldn't stay here much longer, likely to attract suspicion soon. Needs to formulate an excuse for her companions, hasn't even tracked how long she's been gone.

Her thoughts are too scattered for any sensible exit or blank white screen. She pushes away the images flitting through her mind, each of them burning stark and distinct:

Gritting her teeth as she rolled her hips to dip his fingers deeper, angling to fit them snug as she buried her nose in his chest. His hands gripping her waist to bounce her effortlessly on his length when she saw the Throne in her dreams. Drifting her legs open as she imagined feeling him inside her when she touched herself on lonely nights —

Rey keeps her voice at a whisper,

"S- Stop telling me you know what I want —"

His helmet hits the wall when he lowers to rest his head next to hers. She shivers feeling the material touch her heated skin, breath hitching as he speaks into her neck,

"Then stop showing me."

And she sets away that part of herself that's eager to meet everyone's expectation that she'll always do the right thing. To nod at assemblies, to be on call for missions in addition to her Jedi training, to set down this stringent path she was given and didn't really ask to receive —

Kylo inhales, stirring her from her reverie,

"You think about me when you finger yourself?"

The mask vibrates near her ear, every syllable curling like a tide coming into shore. She's too startled by his immodesty to know what to say.

Rey stutters, "I- I —"

"I saw it. Just now."

No opportunity to even attempt the lie. Her voice cracks as she admits, "S- Sometimes…"

_All the time._

(Rey hopes he didn't hear it.)

"I think about being inside you too," he tells her. "Think about the face you make when you come. Think about you choking around my cock on your knees —"

(And she hates how much she likes him reciting his fantasies aloud. Hates how much she wishes she could see his face.)

"Tell me," he bids. "What you think about when you do it."

Her legs wobble. Her conscience screams for her to stop. But her perception is overwhelmed, their tiny hideout feels suspended & faraway. The festival makes everything seem different — her boundaries more relaxed, her temptations more permissible with the whole planet swamped by revelry —

And the Force thrums eagerly for her to _keep going_. Both alluring and terrifying and heating her beyond belief.

"Say it."

And she does. So quietly that she barely hears herself,

"I think about how hard you'd fuck me —"

"Are you thinking about it now too?"

Rey pictures scratching and heaving for breath, trapped beneath his torso and smelling his sweat. Whimpering as he fists her hair to expose her neck and nip her collarbone, filling her rough and deep with heady ragged sounds.

"Y- Yes…"

Kylo adjusts his position, resting one arm on the wall and dropping the other to his side. He points two fingers to the ground in her periphery. Nuzzles the mask against her cheek like an animal, his exhale shuddering on her skin,

"Me too…"

And her hands tremble when she runs them over his tunic, drags her nails down his chest. She catches his belt to tug him nearer, skims her palms down towards —

"Ah —"

Her mouth drops. Her hands fly away, flatten against the wall. She widens her stance feeling a misshapen form pump inside her. Blurred but tangible, expanding to fill her slowly.

"F- Fuck…"

Rey clenches hard, feels nothing in between. Her eyes widen seeing Kylo's pair of fingers jabbing forward to pierce empty air. She wriggles around the invisible intrusion, squirming to settle with its size — 

"That's what you want?" he taunts. "You want me to fuck you through your clothes?"

She nods with a soft moan, too embarrassed to say it for real. Remembers turning back to see Finn, Poe, Chewie, and C3PO chattering on the cliffside. Too absorbed by one another to even notice she went away.

They didn't care.

_Neither should she._

Rey tilts her hips to cinch the sensation deeper, rocking gently to increase the strain. Kylo wedges his knee between her legs, sighs thickly as she coasts her cunt against his thigh. A warmth blooms through the fabric and she kneads more roughly, shamelessly rubbing her clit. Her face blushes hot against the cold helmet, features pinching when he thrusts farther.

"You like that?" he asks.

"Yes…"

Rey fumbles for his belt, grasping the wide band as she increases her pace. He pins her with his limbs and weight, lightly bouncing his leg with a nervous energy that drums against her entrance.

"That's it," he urges. "Come real good for me again…"

Rey fiddles to unlatch Kylo's belt and pushes it off to the floor. The object drops but makes no sound, disappearing when it leaves his touch. She hikes up his tunic urgently, slides under a layering sweater to paw his body. And Kylo pushes with a renewed drive, the form reshaping as she wrings around nothing again.

He seems to enjoy talking but Rey doesn't know what to say. Repeats his real name even though the man it belongs to is long gone, like another bittersweet dream.

"Ben…"

Her palms slide over his middle and around his waist, every plane & scar too present to be this many lightyears away. He leans just enough for Rey to spot part of the mirror and Kylo in its reflection — cape tangled over his back, her fingers clawing for purchase at his sides, his arms bent to fix her in position —

_Like he's really there —_

Rey stifles her moan, cringes hearing the pathetic sound. She skims the high waistband of his pants, blindly grasps for the fly as she rubs her pelvis harder.

"Looking for something?" he huffs.

The detached form spreads to a dull web as Kylo loses his focus, his distorted breaths muddling the static to a different frequency. His motions become more rushed. He drops his thigh from between her legs to grind on her body. His helmet's vents catch the wisps of hair by her ears. The tip of his cock pokes her middle as she digs her nails into his sides.

And the connection twists. The little changing room darkens & softens, shrouded by the Force in a twilit veil. Rey wonders if he senses her desire like she felt his longing before, unsure whether she finds the possibility thrilling or mortifying. She peeks at the mirror again, intoxicated by the sight of her misdeed in view & frame:

_Nothing like the perfect demure Jedi everyone assumes her to be._

"More…"

Rey shudders the word, wriggling to increase friction. Snakes her hand between them to knead his cock with the heel of her palm, completely lost in her passion —

And her anger. With her "friends." With her "mentors." With the whole kriffing Resistance assuming her allegiance. With every single sentient creature who molds her into an image of what they want her to be.

— Following her basest impulses is exhilarating. And with Kylo's face hidden, with his sounds flattened like a machine… 

Right now it all feels like another long strange dream.

"Rey…"

She bites his shoulder, hooks her thumbs in his trousers to guide him down as they slump to the floor. Kylo grabs her bent legs, pushing them open to crawl in between and knuckle her entrance through her clothes. He kneels to perch above her, mask tilted down to stare at her cunt as he murmurs,

"I can smell how hot you are for me."

Her chest tightens, face bright red. Briefly she wonders how he can tell with the mask on, but not too deeply. He traces up her slit, dipping the fabric against her damp underwear in broken circles until he nudges her clit —

"Right there…" she inhales sharply, scuffing her boots on the floor.

Kylo scoots closer. His mask clunks loud against the wall. She grabs his wrist to increase the pressure, too scattered to moan anything but

"More…"

"Say it again —"

She grabs his helmet with both hands, forcing him to look at her. Grazes her lips along the side to speak next to where she thinks his ear would be,

"Take that ridiculous thing off —"

Kylo snaps his head away and stalls his hand. Like she said something odd.

He turns back, tries to brush it off. "I can't."

"Sure you can," she replies, voice dropping low.

There's a beat. "I'm not going to."

She narrows her eyes. Unsure whether to picture troubled lines or a smirk on his face. Not knowing is unnerving but…

She knows she can stop. Knows she should leave. Still moves to feel his cock again.

Her heart pounds measuring his size, refusing to break their gaze. His shoulders shudder with his breaths, getting harder as she goes faster. He removes his gloves and tosses them aside. This time Rey hears them fall to the floor. He resumes his motions over her clit —

"Are you thinking about it?"

He skims downward. She tightens beneath his touch. Instinctively understands what he means,

"Yes…"

_Oh gods, she wants to see if he's as large as he seems._

"Tell me what you're thinking about, Rey."

She lowers her defenses and purposefully creates a vivid fantasy — checking behind her shoulder on all fours to see his ruddied face as he takes her from behind. He squeezes her ass, bruises her hips, watches himself fill her with parted lips —

"I'm thinking about h- having you inside me…"

"Fuck —"

He curses and flinches away from her palm. The scene ignites his drive, searing through their connection with renewed urgency. His hands scramble over her complicated clothes, cover and twist her tits. Shake when Kylo brings them down to unclasp the holster's loop around her thigh.

_You shouldn't be doing this._

But she does, unlatching the holster's second band at her waist with shallow breaths. Rey sweeps aside her wraps, spots a small damp patch in her leggings underneath where Kylo pet her cunt. Her weapons clatter shoving them away from her squirming hips. She scoots her rear back to sit against the wall. He spans her middle going beneath her top to knead her tits —

"Thought it was a bad time," he whispers.

"It is…"

Neither hesitate any longer. Kylo lays his head near her neck, his sounds magnified by the modulator. Drags his palm down and stretches the waistband of her leggings & underwear —

The air flowers with her scent. His pulse races through their bond as he tangles her matted hair to find her clit. Rey gasps when his knuckle smears the hood, fidgets wider when he swipes over it again. She bites the skin behind her lip, sensing the static whipping faster in her chest. He drops lower, coasting the edges of her opening. The mask's vents press her cheek, both unnatural and bestial when he sighs,

"You're so wet already —"

He dips his fingers inside her cunt with a tiny slick sound. Rey narrows hard, inviting him inward like her nerves are surfaced & raw for his entry. Rolls her pelvis slowly to guide him inside her, features pinching with the strain.

"You like that?" he asks her, almost nervously.

"Y- Yes —"

He's too near for Rey to see their reflection, pushing deeper and trapping her in place. Her hands run up his massive thighs, over his hips and tented fly. She swallows undoing the latch, hears his breath hitch when she shrugs down his trousers to bare his length.

Her eyes widen looking down, her fingers trembling over the tip of his cock. It's thick and sturdy like the rest of him, rigid under her hand. She shrugs his foreskin down, flushes hearing the helmet fuzzing into her hair. The material's low vibrations raise goosebumps on her flesh.

She circles his width lightly, strokes down and rubs the head with her thumb. His movements stall, their bond tensing to bring them closer when Kylo asks,

"Y- You like that?"

His voice wavers this time, giving the question a strangely vulnerable tone. That longing beats across the connection again, a flash before she increases her speed. She's not sexually inexperienced (though it's been a long time) — but she expected things with him… to feel shy and somehow sweet — instead of hidden, hurried, dirty, and risking being seen — 

Rey closes her eyes when he crowds a third digit in. Moans louder than she should settling around his fingers, soaking them down as he crooks the ends.

"Don't stop," she whispers.

That dark impulse urges her to continue. Reminding her to chase her own will instead of another's.

_Just let yourself let go._

And she does, cringing as he thrusts roughly and smudges her nub with odd angle of his wrist. Her hand pumps his cock, big and solid as she imagined. Pointing at her like a blade from the dark costume he wore when they first met — made uncanny from the mask's red cracks, his panting noises, the way he seems like a monster seizing his prey.

For a second she considers how weird this really is: splayed out with her legs open on a changing room floor; at a crowded festival with sentients swarming around in stalls & clouds of sand; with drums banging and flags whipping in the valley's winds; with her door locked but potential eavesdroppers everywhere —

Right on cue a pair of footsteps dart away nextdoor.

(Rey doesn't really care if they heard.)

"…Such a tight little cunt," Kylo tells her…

And she clenches down to egg him on, her knees starting to shake. Sways her hips to jar his rhythm, his body tensing as she smears his precome down his length. Tiny clicking sounds drop low in her ears. Her cunt is messy and yielding, slick and hot for him despite all her best intentions —

He exits a second to glaze his cock with her wetness. Rey frowns hearing a horn in the distance, a call to remember she's here for a reason and she can't pretend to forget about her communicator much longer. She rubs her swollen clit, turned on seeing him captivated by her assent.

Like she's the only thing in the whole galaxy.

_The static grows to amplify her every feeling. Her spite. Her passion._

— Kylo starts jerking off. He watches her intently, his wrist moving much faster than hers was before. And Rey continues following her whims, shimmies her leggings below her hips so he can see. The dry air kisses her cunt, pink & shined and tightening. She shivers touching her clit, building fast as she says,

"Don't have m- much time…"

He grunts sharply, piquing her lust to thread through their bond. He balances himself on the wall, his noises lurid and harsh and full of meaning,

"Say how much you like my cock —"

She doesn't even question it. "I want to feel how big you are inside me —"

"Come real good for me again —"

Kylo stops and swats her away from her cunt, pushes his fingers inside her roughly. Brings his other hand down to pinch and flick her clit, peering through their connection to feel her edge nearer to release. She bucks her hips, whining in an effort to keep her voice down. Her thighs part wider, her opening narrows and shapes to him eagerly. And she cringes against the wall, bumping into it as the Force charging in her ribs courses down her veins,

"Fuck, Ben, I'm —"

She tenses around his digits to cinch them further. His fingerprints are textured and rough on her nub, bulbed and sensitive to his motions. Rey grabs his upper arms to steady herself, ruts onto his knuckles desperately like she observes someone else doing it. Her moans are ragged, stifled with some effort — and everything holds still in anticipation of crashing into this moment —

Of irreversibly crossing this boundary once more with him.

"I'm coming, I'm —"

Her mind flits to that blank white screen, disconnected from her surroundings as she revels in her climax. Her cunt drenches his hand. Her boots kick and scrape on the floor. Her nails dig into his biceps as she pretends to wring around his cock, needy for him fill her snug and deep…

And chasing her desires is fucking amazing. Her orgasm is strong & hard and she cries out one last time to sigh his real name,

"Ben…"

He massages her clit until her trembling subsides, scurries his dirty hand up to cup her chin and ask haltingly,

"C- Can I…"

At first she doesn't know what he means. She whimpers feeling his fingers drag from her cunt. Her eyes peel open to stare at him gloss his cock with her slick. He pumps himself fast with an uneven beat, smudging the tip every few strokes with a slightly choked sound. Those tiny clicking noises return and Kylo tilts her head down to assess his need.

He slides his palm to the nape of her neck, tugging lightly to clarify his suggestion. "Will you —"

It puzzles into place.

She nods obediently.

He growls with anticipation, going quicker until his shoulders are jumping in time with his elbow's jerky bobbing. His fingers tangle into her buns and she wishes she could see his face —

"Let me fuck your pretty little mouth —"

Kylo stands without warning, yanking her up to her knees. Rey nearly topples over, situates awkwardly with her leggings tangled round her thighs. He leans one hand on the wall, tugs her head forward to push his cock between her lips.

It's not kind or gentle. He pulls her hair tightly, enters rough & fast. Her mouth wets to a tight circle around his width and she relaxes her throat only seconds before he prods it with his tip —

"Rey…"

He scratches her scalp when he peaks, tilts his hips to bump against her face. Kylo spills heavily, his come pooling warmly on her tongue. She gulps it down to stop from spitting, weirdly surprised by the normalcy of the taste. The smell of his sweat and spend dwell in her nose, gagging as she swallows him to his base.

"Fuck —"

He releases her head, shoves her off his cock and staggers away. Rey bends forward with her hand cupped beneath her chin to minimize the inevitable. The last of his come drips down her chin, collects in her palm. She coughs, hand jerking aside and some seed dribbles onto her leg.

Kylo reclips his pants and belt in her periphery, pacing back to her perch and falling to his knees. He smooths her hair and grazes her jaw with his thumb, shuddering to ask,

"Did you feel that?"

Her stomach drops. "F- Feel what?"

"You know what I mean."

_That darkness weaving to strengthen the ties of their bond. That static buzzing to overwhelm almost everything._

**She did.**

Rey stays silent. Her surroundings lighten back to normal, but the room blurs and spins. The gravity of her indiscretion looms in her thoughts, flipping her insides to make her sick with shame. His taste is fresh on her tongue, her shirt is still rolled up and her cunt still on display. Rey squirms to cover her body sheepishly, unnerved by how much she liked baring it for him. Despite all the terrible things he's done, it's too much to see him admire her like — 

"I… have to go," Rey announces abruptly.

She wobbles to her feet, collects her holster and a hairpin from the floor. Kylo tilts his head, almost boyish with the large helmet on and insists,

"Wait — Just a few more minutes, there's —"

Rey clips the loop around her waist, ties the bottom around her thigh. She grimaces seeing the tiny white droplets on her off-white clothes, the physical evidence of her misdeed.

"I can't," she says, despite her heart fluttering to a quicker beat. "I've been off my mission too long, they're going to suspect something —"

"Who cares what they suspect?" Kylo replies. "Soon we'll have the whole galaxy —"

"N- No," she stutters. "I'm not…"

Rey isn't sure how to finish. Sidesteps Kylo to fix her hair in the mirror, her cheeks and neck rosy from exertion. He stands behind her, a dark specter hanging over her shoulder in the reflection.

"We need to talk," he says. "Really talk. More than this —"

She winces at the implication. "You seemed to enjoy yourself plenty."

Rey shrugs off his hands, takes a canteen of water from her pack hanging on that hook along one wall. She has a long drink, spills a sip on her fingertips to dab his come off her pants.

"I'm going to find you," he promises. "With your friends or without. You can't hide from the truth any longer —"

"What truth?" she demands. "More nonsense about killing the Emperor together?"

"It's not nonsense."

She didn't see Kylo bend down for his gloves, but he pulls them onto his hands. They drop to his sides, fingers tensing with frustration.

"— It's more than that," he continues.

"Then stop being so kriffing vague and tell me," she groans, adjusting her wraps to cover her legs strategically. "I have to go —"

"I can't tell you like this," he states.

Rey pauses to let the phrase hang ominously, reslinging her pack before she spins around once more.

"Tell me how?" she relents, crossing her arms.

"We need to speak face-to-face."

And then his true voice whispers in the spaces between her thoughts:

_It's too important not to tell you in person._

Her pulse skips, their connection stinging like he knows he has to convince her it's true.

(He assumed correctly. She doesn't really believe him.)

"Well, we can't," Rey answers. "Not now and not anytime soon."

She glances into the mirror one more time. Appears decent enough. Kylo marches towards her and spits,

"You're perfectly fine saying you'll fuck me but you can't be bothered to speak with me face-to-face?"

Her jaw drops in shock, limbs going hollow sensing his humiliation and hearing his rage. Rey moves her lips wordlessly for a couple seconds before she says,

"You'll never be anything more than a fuck if you keep going this way."

It upsets him just as she intends, compelled to lash out at him for letting herself get so carried away. Rey continues,

"I have to leave. Back to my mission. That we have to go on because you insist on trying to kill m- my friends."

The word feels false, but it's effective enough. She raises her defenses, impatient to exit and sever the connection and —

"Rey, you can't avoid your destiny. Your —"

Maker, he sounds so melodramatic.

"I'm going —"

She pivots to hasten her retreat, twirling to disengage the stall's manual lock and run away. Kylo lunges at her back, grabs the necklace as she opens the door.

"Stop —"

He rips the band. Half the beads fall and scatter all over the floor, switching on Rey's instinct to flee. She whips to see the strand in Kylo's tight fist, broad frame squared like a creature stirred to attack after a triumphant defeat.

"What the fuck!" he snaps. "Are you really —"

"You want to talk to me in person so badly?" Her hand hovers over the door's latch and she narrows her gaze.

"Good luck finding me."

Rey storms out, slamming the stall closed behind her. She keeps her eyes directed to her feet, not daring to look at anyone nearby lest their expressions suggest they overheard… something. Her final words held an implicit challenge that he'll probably heed even though it was unintended. She was too furious to think twice. Too exasperated by him lording information over her to care.

Rey lets herself get lost in the crowd again. Conversation and music blend discordantly with laughter and joyful singing. A drunken Aki-Aki trips over his own robes and bumps into Rey's side, shoving her towards a passing line dance. She throws up her hands, unable to walk three steps without encountering some new obstacle.

The sun hangs high and hot, blinding her in one direction and blistering sweat on her neck in the other. Her breaths are short, her contradicting thoughts chime in at higher & higher volumes to confuse her —

Rey doesn't feel as bad as she knows she should. Her cunt is fuzzy, heavy from her climax. And finally she's satisfied her curiosity, confirming that Kylo really is big all over like she imagined. She has no idea what to say to her companions. No excuse to offer Finn. Can barely picture looking him in the eye to say she forgot her communicator was off when she's had it in her holster this whole kriffing time.

— _Why do you care what Finn thinks?_

That small dark impulse pipes in again. The same one that's captained her actions since she landed on Pasaana. And she admits to herself that a part of her liked following its suggestions for once. Letting her baser and simpler compulsions decide what to do…

Rey scratches her neck, pauses to look around. Doesn't spot Chewie towering over the crowd. No one calls her name. Everyone passes by like she's any other lost festival attendee.

_Like any other nobody —_

She spots a metallic glare a few feet away. The golden color knocks the air from her lungs. C3PO. Maybe. Rey scrambles to invent a story, rushing to where she spots the bright light at the end of a row of tented booths. She steps on someone's boot —

"Sorry!"

— accidentally slaps a child's treat from its paws —

"Pardon me!"

— and stumbles down an uneven patch of sand that bursts into glittering clouds of dust that sting her eyes and coat her hair.

"Kriff," she mutters, wiping herself off and shaking her head. Rey shields her eyes and squints to find the glow again.

She drops her hand, her Force sensitivity tuning to a nearby presence. Quiet, gentle, unfamiliar, and unseen. Her feet plod closer without her bidding, guided by a whisper to approach a spindly patterned tent at the very end of the row. Some iron-wrought mobiles hang from the thatched roof, precariously swinging above a hunched humanoid woman with deep creases in her ancient face.

The festival drops to a silence again.

(She's at the right place.)

"Come here," the woman rattles from underneath her dark shawl.

She covers her hair and shadows her soft features from Rey's view. A skeletal hand hooks out from the sack-like shift she wears as a dress, her limp & sallow flesh flopping from her bones. She holds out a thin paper pamphlet in her shaky grip.

Rey approaches with careful steps. The tent's shade is darker than others outside and peppered with fragrant incense that burns her nostrils.

"Yes?" she asks, feeling very small.

"Who are you?" the woman greets.

She clears her throat. "Rey."

"Rey." The woman repeats.

She doesn't look up when Rey stops only a couple inches from her pointed toes. A tattered pair of leather sandals lay beside them in the sand. The papers crease in her fingers, holding the item out for Rey's approval.

"Y- Yeah," she replies, trying to fill the awkward silence.

The woman shakes the pamphlet again. Rey plucks it from her dirt-caked nails and squeaks,

"What is this?"

The question is ignored completely. "Rey who?"

She blinks. "Huh?"

"Rey who?" she repeats, emphasizing every syllable.

Rey flips the booklet over to see the title. The letters are ornately stylized in a language she doesn't recognize, inked in a shiny blood red. Not too many pages. The bindings are loose and falling apart. Rey scans the front again and realizes she hasn't answered yet.

"…Just Rey."

The woman acknowledges her response with a distant nod, resting her hand in her lap. A thin breeze withers beneath the canopy, unusually cold and prickling the sweat on Rey's neck. The woman's eyes glimmer with a recognition, but she doesn't ask Rey to elaborate.

"I see," she comments blankly. "Well."

She glances down to the pamphlet. Meets Rey's gaze once more.

"…Watch your head on the way out."

A casual farewell. A normal shopkeeper saying goodbye, instead of giving her light reading for free. Rey peers up at the rusted mobiles pointing down like swords. A few low-hangers look… sharp.

"T- Thanks," she says, noticing symbols drawn onto the papers' corners.

Rey leaves without another word, ducking beneath the decorations as she packs the booklet away to examine later. She wanders several paces, swings her bag onto her shoulder and turns back to observe the tent from afar —

It's gone.

Replaced by a pair of Aki-Aki selling meat kabobs as if she was never there.

"Of course," Rey mutters to herself, trudging down the row.

Her throat feels dry when she switches on her communicator. The woman's disappearance makes her nauseous, but she doesn't want to think about it too hard — or stoke the fears she has of her own selfish propensities —

(Maybe it isn't selfish. Maybe it's just self- _interest_.)

— Rey shakes away the errant musing. Being on Pasaana, somewhere not unlike Jakku, makes Ajan Kloss seem very remote. Throws her alignment to her scavenger's upbringing rather than the Jedi's teachings. The sudden ambivalence is unnerving. She wants to make it easy and blame Kylo, but she initiated most of it… even nodded when he pulled her hair and — 

_He's not Ben,_ she tells herself before letting her heart get any ideas. Long ago steeling herself to avoid any rehash of what transpired a year ago. When she thought he would turn and she let herself…

Get carried away. Like she did today. And those days ago when she woke up from her nightmare.

Rey frowns and switches on her communicator. No point in delaying the inevitable. It screeches on and she immediately hears her name —

"Rey!"

She furrows her brows, removing the device from her holster to hold it to her ear. She depresses the pager. "Finn?"

"Rey!"

Sounds weirdly adrift. She spins around and relays a message again. "Finn? Is this thing on?"

**"Rey!"**

Followed by a guttural roar that cuts loud over the ambient noise. She spots Chewie several yards down the row and waves with a wide practiced grin on her face. C3PO bumbles by his side, golden head reflecting the sunlight like she was looking for earlier. Finn and Poe run ahead of the wookiee, gesturing for her attention and pushing through the crowd.

"Hey!" Finn shouts hoarsely. "There you are —"

He claps her shoulder, heaving for deep breaths. Poe jogs to catch up, looking absolutely furious with grave concern written all over his face. Finn tugs her in for a hug before the commander has a chance to speak. His embrace is warm and genuine, strong enough to leave her winded and absolutely ridden with guilt.

"H- Here I am," she croaks. "I'm okay —"

"We saw you go ahead into the one show and then…" Finn pulls away, hands retreating to his pockets when he rejoins Poe's side. "We were looking everywhere. Is your communicator…"

"We're on a mission," Poe interjects, pointing aimlessly at some mountains on the horizon. "To get the thing to get us to the other thing."

Rey smells alcohol on his breath but doesn't say anything. Can tell Finn and Chewie had some sips too. None of them are drunk, but the fragrant fermenting agents used on desert planets is heavy on their clothes. Can't blame them for stopping by one of the countless homebrew tents when she was gone for —

"Almost an hour," Poe provides incidentally. "You didn't think to check your messages for that long —"

Her pulse thuds too loud for her to understand the rest. Her fingers tremble reaching for the device, fiddling with the switch as a nervous energy swells in her hand. Her palm twitches over the receiver and Finn suggests,

"Maybe it was broken?"

Chewie growls his agreement. Poe sighs and approaches Rey with his palm up,

"Yeah, let me check it…"

Not with any suspicion. He's just the most technologically savvy of the present group. Her tether to the bond stitches tighter as she grabs her communicator, her hand flaring with a tingling sensation —

_bzzt_

Poe examines the device, taps the front screen and flips over to the battery. He shakes it by his ear, his other hand on his hip.

"Thing's dead," he concludes. "Great, we're down one comms system already. Might have one back on the ship…"

Chewie indicates one of the towers in the distance, topped with an electric blue flag advertising drinks. They all go along with the idea, agree that it's in the general direction they needed to go anyway. Rey lingers behind them a moment, heart leaping to her throat,

_She got away with it._

C3PO waits for her, walking in stride to offer various facts about the delicacies & wares on display. Rey doesn't protest, lets his chattering keep her from dwelling too long on what happened. Finn checks back every few yards to confirm she still follows and Rey wonders if he heard her attempt to contact him.

She's reading into it too much. Sets aside a brush against her mental defenses, assumes it's Kylo trying to announce his imminent approach. Finn spins round again, this time his eyes widening when he spots something behind Rey and C3PO.

"Hey guys —"

He grabs Poe's bicep and Rey turns to see a pair of stormtroopers pointing at the very end of the stalls. Their white uniforms stand out prominently among everyone's brightly colored robes. One nods and presses the side of their helmet for the rally signal.

Everyone starts running and Rey doesn't hesitate to flee.

The group shoves aside attendees, upend carts and display racks, and even set off some firecrackers to broadcast their location. Messy and haphazard as usual, barely scraping an escape from a slew of support troops called off patrols. Some points are even kind of fun, shouting

"Watch out!" and "Over there!"

and scrambling beneath the soaring wooden towers, hollowed and filled with lanterns & flowers & flags depending on the architect.

_Adventure. Companionship. Purpose._

She repeats the hollow platitudes like a mantra. But the fleeting minutes of entertainment aren't enough to unburden her of all these…

Confusing feelings.

The troopers corner them before long. The crew ducks behind another set of changing stalls into a larger clearing for parking. A terrestrial transport zips towards them, the outdated trims sending up jets of sand. They nearly collide into the thing when it brakes to a shuddering halt, the sidedoor opening to reveal tapestries and more colored incense smoke.

"Hop in!" a familiar voice shouts, but Rey can't identify it.

"Come on!" Poe shouts, waving them into the random unmarked van.

Rey climbs up at the end of the line, declining Finn's offer to take his hand. The door slams behind her and she takes a seat next to him. 

Tries to ignore the suspicion darkening his gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you 💝


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect a month between updates, apologies for the delay! These bits on Pasaana got a bit longer than expected, divided the next part into two chapters 🙂 Next update will be posted this coming **Sunday, March 1st**.
> 
> Thank you very very much for your feedback and hope you enjoy the next couple chapters! Big thank you to [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for your friendship, second set of eyes, and support 💝
> 
> Tags Added: "Spice AKA Space Weed"
> 
> P.S. Have opted not to include D0. Too much to keep track of already + the droid was voiced by JJ anyway. My apologies to the D0 fans out there.
> 
> Here we go! 🎉

Rey squeezes onto the end of a bench built along one wall of the vehicle's passenger area. Finn sits between her and Poe on the other side, his leg bouncing with a nervous energy. 

She recognizes the decades-old transport model from scrap stations on Jakku. The row seating is removed, replaced with thick carpeting and large pillows all over the floor. Space is decent but tight, standard frame before they were widened in later years. A patterned tapestry hangs on the opposite wall between two skinny manual windows. A cone of novelty incense burns in a tiny globe hanging from the roof, creating a thin haze of fragrant multicolored smoke. Chewie sits on the floor next to a grey-haired humanoid male wearing dark sungoggles even though they're inside. C3PO mutters as he joins them on the ground,

"Hardly an ideal escape plan…"

Chewie growls for him to knock it off, shoving his shoulder. He grabs a pillow from behind the droid as the transport dips with a dent in the sand.

"Keep your paws to yourself," C3PO huffs. "Need I remind you that —"

"Thought you'd be happy to see me," a deeper voice greets from the driving bay.

The one Rey thought she recognized before. Her head snaps over to see an old man with a dark cape hanging over a yellow shirt. He sprawls out on a beanbag chair propped up against the motoring droid and empty passenger seat. One leg rolls out to the side a little too far, twisted like it healed off-center after an odd break. The creases in his face deepen with a thin coy smile.

"It's been a long time," he says. "You manage to keep yourself in one piece?"

Chewie grunts with a deadpan response. The man chuckles and shakes his head. Rey's stomach is too knotted to react, still unsettled by her transgression and the vehicle's hobbling suspension. Finn crosses his arms, elbow hitting her side as he shifts his weight. Poe hunches over to meet the stranger's eyes and adds,

"Doing some sightseeing?"

Poe wrings his hands in his lap, looking up at the windows to scope the perimeter. The strips are too skinny to really see.

The man replies, "You can say that. Been here for… three, four years now maybe. Harder to keep track after a while."

BB8 chirps by Rey's boots, bolting himself to the bench with his extendable metal cords. The man lounging on a pair of tasseled pillows next to Chewie adds,

"I never saw you and you never saw me, right?"

The wookiee nods and Poe flashes him a grin. "Of course."

Rey still can't place either voice, glances at Finn's profile to determine if he recognizes the men. Their faces are uncannily familiar — and she briefly considers peeking behind their mental boundaries to obtain their identities —

"Rugged terrain —"

The droid autopiloting the controls gives them a couple seconds warning before the transport shudders over an uneven dune. Everyone bounces in their seats, Finn bumping his head on the wall when Poe grabs his knee. Rey grips the edge of the bench, hears C3PO topple over into a heap of limbs.

"They rarely comb the sand up here," the man in front announces, smoothly raising his tone above the ricketing van. "Just looping around the valley, bring you to the rec transport lot on the other end."

"Thanks for picking us up," Poe begins. "Got ourselves in a corner."

Another chuckle. "Oh, know how that is," he replies with a wistfulness that shows his age. "Been running from troopers since —"

"Yeah yeah, we know you're old, Lando," the man next to Chewie cackles, his laugh frogging to a throaty cough. He shoves his hand into his poncho, rummaging through the interior pockets for a couple seconds before pushing the goggles up to his forehead.

Rey swallows hard, recalling where she last heard Lando's name —

_Overhearing Leia speaking with a hushed tone into a voice comms in her quarters, the door cracked open just enough for Rey to hear the words,_

_"…We can only hope, Lando."_

And a few months ago, his face blurred into focus when the General switched on a holovid kept in her desk, another moment that Rey observed from the hall. She wonders now if Leia only pretended not to know:

_"Think we got it, Han —"_

_"This thing on?" The man leans into view, decades younger than the brief time Rey knew him. "Hello? Hello —"_

_"See the red light? That means it's —"_

_"Yes, Lando, I can see the red light," Han grumbles, poking the display._

_He twists around like something makes a sound behind them and gestures to an individual offscreen. "Hey kid, c'mere, we're sending a message to Mom —"_

(Then Leia switched off the vid, staring at the wall for several moments before Rey walked inside.)

— "Enjoying the festivities so far?" Lando provides conversationally. "Besides that bit of trouble, I mean."

Chewie shrugs, introduces Rey and Finn. Mentions that they flew the Millennium Falcon to Pasaana. Poe remarks, "Ship flies great."

"A little worse for wear," Finn adds, flashing his toothy grin.

The sand smooths and the transport steadies. Rey crosses her legs to give her restless limbs something to do — biting her cheek to silence her resentful thoughts from leaving her lips —

She hates hearing them act like they care about the ship, barely apologetic for its state earlier today. Probably just trying to impress Lando and the fellow in the corner whose name still escapes her. His beakish nose peers down at a skinny roll of tan paper in his roughly calloused hands.

"When did you get here, Wedge?" Finn asks eagerly.

He looks up and Rey remembers. Wedge Antilles. He's spoken in front of the Resistance a few times, the newest lead flight instructor for the piloting team. Not who she would have expected at all, much less Lando Calrissian and —

"Few days ago," Wedge replies. "Took these weeks off ages back, no way I'm missing the Cosmic Waves reunion at the Festival of the Ancestors, talk about a once in a lifetime set."

"Their species? Twenty years max left on the lifespan too," Lando says. "Remember that one tour? Oh…"

They start reminiscing. Rey presses her lips to a line, notices Finn cover his mouth to snicker in her periphery. She meets his eyes, the pair communicating their shared amusement with raised eyebrows. Somehow they got stuck in a van with nostalgic old space hippies. Of course.

Poe participates in the conversation, outgoing and genial as usual. Chewie is happy to recount pleasant memories. C3PO expresses his frustration at several points, reminding everyone loudly,

"Do we know where we are relative to the coordinates?"

Ignored the first time he does it. Rey remains mostly quiet, smiling and nodding at appropriate breaks in the chatter. Their clumsy escape was a decent distraction for a good while, but soon the thoughts she set aside return with an intrusive sting. Her thighs tense recalling what transpired so shortly ago. How her heart pounded as Kylo opened her knees to crawl in between. How she heard his gloves thump lightly onto the ground —

The brief images scatter when the transport erupts into raucous laughter. Poe claps his hands, Wedge stomps his feet and ignites a portable sparkstone to light his roll. Finn's elbow in her side reminds her to smile broadly, to pretend she heard what was said.

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"It's fine," she says, spotting Wedge exhale a cloud of white smoke.

Spice. He coughs a couple times, holds out the roll to the bench.

"— Commander?"

Poe declines, "No thanks."

Rey and Finn shake their heads. C3PO grumbles inaudibly, adjusting his seat against the wall. Lando waves his hand and Chewie nods. 3PO comments,

"Really?"

 _Mind your business,_ Chewie growls.

Poe bites his lip before remembering wherever he left off, picking up his story once more. Rey tunes out the small talk, scrunching her nose from the spice's peppery odor. Everyone speaks around her, blissfully unaware that an offer stands for her to leave. She leans forward to read the trip coordinates on the dashboard, but the digits are too far away.

"How big is the festival area?" she hears Finn ask, his voice distantly echoing like a recording playing in the corner as she tidied her AT-AT. "…Takes this long to circle the perimeter?"

"It's been a little bit," Lando admits, turning to the droid. "Thought I told you to circle the perimeter to the northern rec entrance?"

Rey startles from the machine's flattened tone. "Circling to the Valley's northern entrance."

Lando sighs, "No, that's not…"

He grabs the passenger seat to bend into the driving bay, punching coordinates into the directional console with tiny beeps. BB8 whistles by Rey's knees. Lando comments,

"…Losing some of his edge, but nobody steers like him."

Chewie protests. Lando winks. Poe and Wedge chat about ship upgrades with Finn chiming in. Everything moves too quickly for Rey to be at ease, worrying she missed a visible scratch on her skin. Even though she checked that mirror. And someone would have said something before.

Rey pales remembering her responsibility to those who gave her shelter this past year. Her pulse thuds in time with the transport's increasing speed. Lando meets her eyes briefly, tilting his head to encourage her to participate. He asks the group,

"So what brings you to Pasaana? Music? Relaxation?"

"None of that, I'm sure," Wedge quips with a wink of his own.

"Official business. Looking for a, uh…" Poe clicks his tongue. "What's the thing called —"

"Wayfinder," Finn supplies. "To Exegol."

Lando raises his eyebrows. "Exegol?"

"Yeah," Finn answers. "You heard of it?"

"Not in a long time."

Smoke casts the transport in a thin haze. Rey coughs, chest heavy with guilt despite the tiny flutter of excitement her ruse brings. Her palms feel scratchy, dried from the strange sensation that coursed through her skin before her comm shorted out. Lando rolls the windows open with a hand crank to let in fresh air, back turned to Rey as he fiddles with the climate controls. Her thoughts catch up to her moment's satisfaction, lurching to a higher gear to compensate —

"You knew Luke Skywalker, right?" Rey attempts, voice squeaking more than intended.

There's a pause. Lando meets her gaze with a welcoming smile. "That I did."

"Is he the one who told you about Exegol —" 

The transport bumps sharply. Everyone braces themselves again. Wedge laughs with another throaty cough watching the group resettle in their seats. Chewie grunts and takes the roll from his fingers, waving off C3PO when he sighs in dismay.

"— That he did." Lando doesn't miss a beat. "This was a long time ago, came out here for a smaller festival, not too different from this."

Another reference to the past, like all of Pasaana's stuck in it. The celebration of ancestors, the reunion tour, the ancient transport, the neverending tales of another time before they were there. The observation is amusing, but isolating. An unintended reminder that she left a desert like this only a year ago. She sidesteps the opening for another drawn-out retelling of an adventure and reiterates,

"Luke told you about Exegol while you were here on Pasaana? Did he mention anything about a- a wayfinder?"

"Well," Lando begins…

(So much for avoiding a story.)

…Finn pays close attention, leaning to see Lando's expressions as he explains,

"Luke's usually pretty uptight, by the end of the third set he was feeling pretty good. Left when winds started picking up, found a boxing ring setup in the aisle where we pitched the tent. He wasn't having any of that. Packed the transport —"

Lando pats the tapestry.

"— And he's telling me night's still young, remembers some coordinates he found from a code book, something like that. Got turned around a few times finding it, before I had —"

He gestures to the droid and it whirrs in response.

"— Before I swapped out the locator too, really were in no state to be handling this ship, doing on-course manual readings."

Wedge murmurs something in Chewie's ear and the wookiee shushes him, pushes the pilot away. Finn says,

"End up finding anything?"

"Not really," Lando admits. "Just an abandoned ship, tags for a pilot named Ochi. Nothing exciting there, scavengers already got to it…"

Rey blushes, eyes darting to the floor.

"…Split a bottle watching a meteor shower. Lit up the stars, could hear some of the music even. Before terrestrial wildlife sound ordinances and things like that."

"Uh huh," Poe says. "So no wayfinder?"

"Well. We didn't look too hard either."

Rey sees Poe frown, then correct his reaction quickly. "Sounds like a good time."

"Absolutely." A second passes. "Hard to believe he's gone —"

"Approaching."

The steering droid announces their impending arrival, manipulating buttons & levers to cruise at a lower speed. Rey welcomes the abrupt shift in focus, smiling at BB8 when he rotates his head cheerfully. The antsy passengers check for their belongings and Lando narrates,

"Here we are, pulling up to the gate…"

A lump swells in Rey's throat. She pictures Leia staring at the wall once more, her frail hands folded across her lap. And the gasps & nervous conversation echoing in the hanger when the Resistance heard the Emperor's name. No word of what morale is like at Ajan Kloss, until now it never occurred to Rey to care. But Leia —

_I'm sorry._

— Despite the distance that remains between them, the gravity of her tone made it feel like a final goodbye. Her soldiers have grown in numbers, but nowhere near what they would need to face down the First Order.

Rey asks, "Lando, have you heard from Leia lately?"

He raises his eyebrows, surprised by her request. "Can't say I have."

He waits for Rey to continue. She senses the others' gazes too.

"She really needs pilots right now. The Resistance is up against some bad odds and…" Somehow it seems more appropriate for Leia to explain the details. "Every ship counts —"

The vehicle shudders to a stop, sidedoor sliding open with an exhausted creak. Smoke plumes out like they make a grand exit, the novelty incense and spice thickening the dry air. Wedge slides down his sungoggles to hide his red eyes, lying back in his chair with a wave as they begin to leave. Poe sneezes and Finn waves his hand,

"Thanks again for picking us up."

"No problem," Lando responds, sitting up with a small salute. "And Rey?"

She peeks up from smoothing her wraps. "Yes?"

"I'll ping Leia tomorrow. See who I can find."

A brief moment passes between them as her companions leave the transport. As if he can read beyond her tepid words and understands the stakes. A halting reminder for her to do the same. Rey checks her mental defenses as she ducks to step down from the vehicle, certain that the bond is closed (for now).

"T- Thanks," she attempts, turning back once more to meet Lando's knowing gaze.

"May the Force be with you," he says.

There's a beat. "You too."

They all offer their perfunctory farewells. Wedge vows to return after this evening's set and some time to sleep it off. Lando laughs as the door clacks shut, the engine sputtering as the vehicle pulls away. Their surroundings are nearly identical to the ones they left, with rows of ships instead of vendors leading to more flag-lined pathways. Chewie reorients a compass in his paw to determine their location, Rey joining his side a few paces behind their companions. They head towards the nearest entrance, not wanting to stick out from the scene.

She hears C3PO conclude, "That was not a very informative story."

"Agree with the bucket of bolts this time," Poe remarks, raising his voice. He spins around, indicating Rey when he asks, "Are we sure this is the real deal? Will get us to Exegol?"

Finn repeats, "This is the planet Luke wrote down by those coordinates. For the wayfinder, in the Jedi texts —"

"Might have been taken from the ship, if they even found the right place, sounds like they were hammered."

Rey glares at Poe's back. She knows that he doubts the circumstances more than her being their initial source. The plan was formulated well before she gave him actual reason to suspect anything. But it feels personal nonetheless.

"You have any better ideas?" she snaps. "From when you heard about Exegol before this morning?"

His casual swagger when he spins around frustrates her even more. So easy for him to be cavalier about their journey when his fate isn't potentially at stake — 

"We're going off a hermit's notes and some bender he went on probably a decade ago, can you really blame me for asking the question?"

(Not when Poe says it like that. But she **knows** they're on the right track, guided by that same intuition that's steered her heart so many times before.)

Finn steps between the pair, visibly uneasy. "I mean, it's Luke Skywalker —"

"Still," Poe insists, crossing his arms. "It's not exactly —"

His tone sparks her frustration into a burst of anger that she can't restrain. Rey cuts him off with a sneer,

"Do you have to doubt every idea that isn't your own? Or only reserve the privilege for me?"

"Hey, I never said…"

…And that static brews at the edges of her awareness, the sensation that's warped her alignment for days. It swims down her veins and hardens the frown turning down her lips, even though the energy itself whips eagerly. Like it's smiling. Emboldening her words and steadying her stance and prodding her along.

"What?" she asks, marching towards Poe and Finn.

C3PO appears behind her. "Well, I wouldn't say it's reserved only for you —"

"Can it, 3PO!" Rey and Poe shout in unison.

He waves them off with his red arm and hobbles past the group to reenter the festival, calling back,

"I'll be taking the most direct path to the coordinates. If anyone cares to join me."

Chewie shrugs and walks after him. BB8 stays at Poe's heels, head wheeling round to watch them go. The interruption lasts long enough for Rey's impulse to cool, her thoughts catching up with her racing pulse. Finn glances between her and Poe a few times, clearing his throat to say,

"Heat's getting to all of us. We don't have any other leads. Let's just…"

He doesn't finish. He pockets his hands, meeting Rey's eyes briefly. There's a beat. A second's insight past her defenses and into that… distortion she keeps locked away.

**Darkness.**

The term she keeps refusing to say. Prompting her to attention at the sense of being observed. Glimpsed from beneath a Light that isn't Kylo's. Or her own —

_But…_

And Finn looks away.

BB8 whistles for them to follow his lead and the three humanoids trail the others, staring at their feet. Rey counts her breaths to slow her heartbeat, unsure how to interpret whatever she perceived through the Force. The static hums low and Rey feels too seen —

"Didn't mean to get so upset before," she says. "It's hot. Long day already."

"It's getting to me too," Poe admits.

Both agree to cede that much, declining to fake any outright apologies. The three catch up at the first guidepost sign, listen to C3PO translate the local script.

"…This path appears to head due north. Oh, and how delightful, should pass another stage along the way."

BB8 speeds off excitedly. Chewie shrugs again, red-eyed and distracted by a passing crew of Aki-Aki wearing very tall elaborate hats. Merchants hawk souvenirs from booths lining one side of the trail. The other is filled with attendees lounging on chairs of varying shapes, materials, and styles. Apparently a large-scale art installation for the event.

Rey tries not to get lost in all the activity. An echoing hollow tune grows louder as they approach the stage, wavering from the amplifiers' feedback. More & more lifeforms crowd the walkway and chairs to get a better view, fanning out as the path opens to a large clearing. The combed sand is packed hard and flat, teeming with creatures. Groups dance in rings, with hoops, with bells & tambourines. Lay out on blankets, under canopies and umbrellas to block the sun. The band up front plays multi-pronged flutes, one of them using his second set of arms for drums. BB8 chirps in time with the beat, bouncing ahead of the quiet Resistance troop.

Chewie claps along, surveying the crowd for troopers, towering above most attendees. Poe keeps a head count as the gang lines single-file to cut across the clearing. Rey tunnels her focus on C3PO's back, hears Finn murmur behind her

"Wow…"

as he takes in the whole scene, admiring the spectacle and novelty. Indistinct laughter & surrounding conversation muddle the song into garbled notes, creating a dormant static that complements her own. They shuffle through at a slower clip, halting to a stop when the music ends and the clearing erupts with applause. Rey bumps into C3PO, spots Chewie growling over his shoulder towards the stage.

Poe shouts, "We've got company!"

"Have we been spotted yet?" Finn asks.

"Don't know, let's move —"

They push towards the edge of the crowd and the noise winds down, the band tuning their instruments for the next song. All the excitement and sounds swarm to a dull thump in Rey's ears, unnerving beneath the sun's relentless heat. She gulps from her canteen when they reach the perimeter, spinning back to look for patrols on their trail. Finn lingers with her, drinking from his pack and calling,

"Wait up!"

The pair rush to catch up, the group overly conspicuous with their two droids and hurried footsteps. Rey struggles to absorb all the color and bustle and nervous energy, becoming more overwhelmed than entertained. Chewie increases his pace, gesturing behind them wordlessly.

"Kriff," Poe mutters, "Keep moving…"

Rey and Finn hunch their shoulders putting away their packs, noses down to hide their faces. They reach another signpost at a circle where three other paths meet. C3PO points to the trail that continues north, confirming the pull that Rey feels through the Force's disrupted energy —

"Over there!"

— A stormtrooper's voice modulator cuts loudly over the fading music. Rey whips around to see a pair of soldiers charging in from the east, one of them pressing the side of their helmet for another rally signal.

"They've spotted us!" Finn announces, if it wasn't obvious already.

Poe curses again, BB8 zooms north, and Rey is scrambling to escape with her companions — barely a moment to breathe before they're running somewhere again. The unusual setting passes too quickly to register, all of them sprinting and ducking and craning their necks to pinpoint more troops.

Chewie roars and directs them towards a row of unlocked speeder rentals. Poe takes the hint. C3PO protests,

"We hardly have time to trade credits —"

Finn cuts in, "Don't think that's the plan."

This time Rey knows she and Poe are on the same wavelength, the two of them kneeling to hotwire a pair of speeders. She helms the smaller one with Chewie in the backseat, zipping off before Poe as BB8 hops into the side-cab of the larger transport. The vehicle's on-board compass indicates north and Rey barrels ahead into the open desert, crouching low with her eyes trained on a distant plateau.

Her companions' vehicle joins her side shortly, setting off boosters to match her speed. She hears creaking wheels and a low buzzing in the distance that picks up intensity —

"Incoming!" Poe shouts.

Rey spots several stormtroopers gaining behind them, riding military-customized First Order transports. Chewie slings down his bowcaster and disengages the safety, peers at the soldiers through the viewfinder to aim bolts at the front-side balancers. One connects, sends the trooper spinning into the side of a jagged rock. His armor cracks and his ship explodes.

The shattering bones and smell of burning fuel kicks Rey's instinct into gear. She grips the trigger of her blaster, directing the speeder with one hand as she watches the handle's mirror for her opportunity. Poe's vessel takes harsh turns to avoid obstacles, trying to lead the troopers right into them with little success. One speeder takes the bait and Rey spins back to clip him off, shooting down the vehicle with sand between her gritted teeth.

 _Nice one,_ Chewie roars.

Finn tosses a remote grenade, times the charge perfectly and knocks out another three. The entire group cheers his success, even Rey raises a fist in the air to celebrate. Only four stormtroopers remain, paired off on a couple speeders with heavier armor reinforcing the frames. The pilots zoom forward in unison and both passengers lift from their seats, wearing jetpacks to send them sailing above the chase —

"They fly now?" Finn remarks, completely aghast as he states the obvious again.

"They fly now!" Poe agrees.

Rey takes some shots, narrowly missing her targets. Chewie aims and lands a bolt in one of the airborne fuel canisters, shorting out the machinery into another ball of flames. Adrenaline surges through Rey's veins, powering her actions with a rage that narrows her vision — that lets her forget that the faceless suits becoming fireworks are all conscripted sentients —

_Any one of them could be another Finn._

(That darkness whispers for her not to pay it any mind.)

The rest passes in a blur of noise, drowning out her racing heartbeats. They're eventually victorious, Poe leading another cheer when he fires on the last soldier. Rey whoops along with them, swept into the moment's celebration and wearing a broad smile.

Chewie screams in warning. The pilots remember where they are, slamming the speeders' brakes when they see the sands disappearing to a sheer drop.

"Kriff!" Poe shrieks.

The vehicles skid to a halt at the lip, the momentum throwing their unbuckled riders off the side like ragdolls. Wind whips their faces, their limbs flail as they topple hundreds of feet down, every one of them grasping the empty air for dear life. Rey closes her eyes, her body in flight.

And for a moment. A brief second —

_Just a passing heartbeat —_

Rey considers letting them hit the ground below…

_— And she could leave._

The static churns. She's still beaming.

**"Rey!"**

Finn's plea breaks the spell, a knife tearing through the fog. Her eyes peel open, stomach dropping with their altitude as they hurtle towards certain death. She breaks her mental defenses, harnesses every connection and outlet to the Force that she has —

Rey throws her arms open, hands splayed wide, fingertips tingling with a strange energy. A weight balls in her palms, skimmed from the air to a near-tangible form. She sees her companions' horrified expressions, all of them looking to her desperately for rescue.

And she does it. Of course. Seizes the energy flowing through the planet's sands to pull it up like a cushion from the ground.

Almost literally. They bounce and flop forward less than ten feet from the surface, sliding downward until lurching to a stop in a pit of soft sugar-textured sand.

All of them lie still, catching their breaths and regaining their bearings. Rey wets her chapped lips, chest tight with guilt for a fleeting moment of morbidity. Only natural, she reminds herself, to be intrigued by the worst possibilities. And she fears how easily she files it away as a lapse in judgment, despite the static humming pleasantly —

"Five clicks from the coordinates!" C3PO declares. "We've arrived!"

Poe bursts into a fit of laughter. "Thank fuck!"

"Yeah," Finn offers feebly.

Rey hears movement around her, half-submerged bodies swimming to get upright. Chewie grunts to confirm he's alive too. BB8's squeal is muffled below ground. Rey wiggles to a sitting position, her legs sinking deeper —

"Quicksand!" she yelps.

Everyone struggles to escape the pit immediately, lowering into the sand. Despite knowing to stay still and exit slowly, she offers no advice. This time her intuition bids her to keep going, her Force sensitivity opened & reeling from her prior efforts. 

There's something to be discovered at this location, dwelling just beneath their feet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, wonder what happens next? 😂😉
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you 💞


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much again for reading and for your feedback. I appreciate it so so much. Thank you [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for beta reading, you are a treasure 💞
> 
> Here we go, hope you enjoy 😊
> 
> P.S. Edited 03/07/20 to add "Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It" tag

Rey twists around, sees her companions disappearing into the quicksand. BB8 is barely audible, C3PO makes fizzling electric sounds. Chewie heaves himself up by his paws, making one final effort before being scooped into the earth. Poe's laughter fades to a half-hearted chuckle, accepting the irony of his fate. Rey silently begs for her instincts to be correct.

"I- I need to tell you something…"

Finn gulps for air beside her, using his last seconds for a confession. Suddenly her exposed connections to the Force feel an attempted intrusion, a final appeal to show her something through it —

But the sand swallows him up before Finn can finish the rest. Rey squeezes her eyes shut and pinches her nose, inhaling a large gulp of air. And a tiny whisper in the back of her mind — the little girl who held her threadbare blanket as the desert's nighttime storms lit the empty horizon — it calls to the old Masters like they might come for her aid,

_Be with me…_

All fades to black. Grains of sand itch every plane of exposed skin. The ground pushes her body down like a loose clog through a drain. Her lungs sting, her feet and hands feel limp & blue. The seconds pass slowly despite the funnel's speed, suddenly losing her footholds and

**pop**

Rey emerges from the sand in a freefall, only a few feet before landing inelegantly on an uneven patch of soft ground.

"Ow," she cries out, wincing on her back as she opens her eyes.

Her vision stops spinning, a dim ceiling sharpening into view. Rey shifts to dislodge the pack arching her spine uncomfortably. Bits of sand scatter into a dusty cloud when she coughs, sitting up to ascertain her surroundings. She spots the silhouettes of her companions around the dark room, smoothing their clothes and shaking out their hair. 

"You okay?" Finn asks, his voice echoing in the chamber.

"I think so," she responds, wobbling to her feet.

Poe switches on a lantern, creating a small halo of light. He illuminates the room, a tunnel carved from the planet's packed sand hardening to stone. The way they came in is too high to see.

"We've gone a level lower, but are at the same coordinates as before," C3PO provides.

Chewie grunts again, still cleaning his fur. The group huddles closer around Poe's lantern to see one another's faces. Rey crosses her arms, a step outside the circle behind the rest. Glances around, unable to find an exit from the room.

"Okay, enough mortal peril for today," Poe begins, doing his best to brush it off. "Let's pick a way and mark the walls as we go…"

Rey sighs, unclipping her saber to ignite the blade. The light is much brighter, exposing four paths out of the room. One is wider, appears more structurally sound than the slips burrowed out by Pasaana's terrestrial creatures. A recognition crosses her awareness, steering her towards the hollow opening…

Poe powers down his lantern, mostly useless compared to the illumination from Rey's saber. She keeps her back turned to the others, barely acknowledges her companions flocking to her side. Now they trust her instinct, when options are limited and none of them can come up with an alternative on their own —

(That darkness once again. Taking every quiet moment as an invitation to remind her it's there.)

Despite the tension, Finn and Poe continue their banter, hissing in stage-whispers as they step on each other's feet. BB8 wheels timidly by Rey's ankles in front, with Chewie and C3PO at the rear.

"Will you keep it down?" the droid admonishes the crew. "Most of these tunnels look organic in nature and —"

"Organic?" Finn says. "You mean —"

"Carved by some creature, surely," C3PO explains. "Large enough to —"

"Okay, we get it," Poe insists. "Keep it down, right."

A heavy groan of shifting rocks begins on cue. Rey stops with a gasp, Finn bumps into her backpack. She continues with careful footsteps, everyone remaining silent as they listen for the sound again. They encounter another fork in the path and no one questions Rey as she leads them down one of the hollows. The noise starts again, longer and louder.

Chewie hrms in disapproval. Rey increases her pace, her boots clopping over patches of rock & sand. Finn joins her side, mirroring her posture and tilted head. She bites inside her cheek, unable to hide her curiosity,

"What were you going to say before?"

He pauses first. "What do you mean?"

She exhales from her nose, irritated by the evasion. "You know what I mean. Just now, in the quicksand."

"I —"

He's interrupted by the sound returning, rumbling right nearby. Bits of dirt fall from the ceiling, the clumps sizzling to steam when they hit her blade.

 _Convenient timing,_ Rey deadpans internally.

— And she hears a rattling intake of breath, a warm blast of air in their faces that stinks of rotting plants & boiled meat. She charges ahead with her weapon, shining its light into the tunnel to reveal a gigantic beady-eyed snake. Its mouth hangs open, showing too many teeth crammed into its gaping maw.

None of them scream.

Poe just mutters, "Fuck me…"

And they hightail the opposite direction, only getting several yards on the creature before it gives chase. Rey cuts around to the front of the pack, her blade's shaky light acting as a beacon for the rest. She tunes out the grunts, curses, and exclamations to let that same instinct captain her decisions. The one that told her to hold her breath and drop through the quicksand. Rey circuits through the tunnels to elude the creature, while drawing closer to a destination that lures her with a gentle pull. She takes a hard turn at another nexus, hoping the angle will be too fast & tight for the snake to follow —

Seems to work for a few seconds. Even Finn whistles to signal the short-lived reprieve.

The thing slams into a wall, shaking the ceiling and draping the group in another coating of sand. It reorients easily, accustomed to exploring the narrow tunnels. And soon everyone's shouting again, improvising plans and fleeing danger like they have so many times before. Rey feels the Force lifting her steps as she moves faster — its light flows through her limbs from the planet like a well, washing away the static disrupting her alignment —

_Pain._

She senses it as communicated to her from some external source — a pang of sympathy through the Force, weaving through its tethers to her surroundings — 

Rey feels the pain every few yards, always timed with a howling screech from the snake. She struggles to isolate the cry with her panting breaths in her ears. She tunes her sensitivity with the swinging light of her saber, the blade blurring as she unfocuses her vision. Distantly aware that the others continue to follow her abrupt turns, that BB8 shines a little floodlight of his own onto the ground.

_There it is._

Her destination. An idea taking form.

The static dissipates. The light nods approvingly.

One final change in direction and they're barreling down a straightaway. The white & blue flashlights illuminate a high-ceilinged chamber blocked by enormous rocks on all sides. Debris that has to be moved aside while standing still. The group airs various states of disbelief:

"Dead end!" Finn says. Chewie roars. C3PO and BB8 bleep. Poe yells,

"Against the sides!"

Everyone scatters to press their backs against the walls. The snake crashes hard at the middle terminus. Rey braces herself as the ground shakes, spitting dirt from her mouth when the vibrations subside. The creature rolls on its side to look at the saber's halo. Begins crawling on its belly towards her, barely tolerating the ache searing a long plane of flesh.

"Turn 'em off!" Poe hisses.

BB8 listens. Rey does not. She imagines her companions gawking at her determined expression bathed in jagged blue shadows.

(Not unlike the colors she saw in her dreams.)

Her feet step forward, her hand raises with an open palm. The snake stops a couple inches from her fingertips, baring its teeth as it coils around itself defensively. Droplets form on her skin, condensation from its rhythmic exhales.

There's a beat.

Rey disengages her blade.

The snake twists, exposing a gash along its underside. The wound is puckered red, inflamed around the edges and caked with bits of sand. Rey clips the saber back in her holster, toes closer and shows her empty hands.

"It's okay," she says gently, keeping her voice low. "Hold still…"

Everyone does, their silent dread thickening the tension in the room. Her pulse drums louder than the festival's music as she approaches, dizzying her bravery into something more confused. She senses the creature's heartbeat too, coursing through the Force around her. And she accesses the Light flowing through the planet's sands & air to center her faculties — to manipulate its energy —

"You're hurt," she whispers, attempting to communicate some level of trust. "There…"

Fuck, the thing smells terrible.

She crouches beside it, balancing to hover her palms above the gash. The skin is scaled smooth with rings segmenting its length, slimy along the wound's borders where she places her hands.

Rey closes her eyes.

_And pictures rolling over on the ground, dizzy and nauseous from her fall on the training course. She examines a cut on her calf, slicing her flesh vertically and bleeding steadily. Her hands shake as she hikes up her leggings, pain searing through her limbs with every tiny motion…_

She senses the galaxy's vitality swimming through her body, gathering below her palms — enchanting her surroundings to swirl and dim, affixing her hands to the creature as her link to the Force cinches tighter —

_…Rey can barely move, can barely breathe, can barely touch her own leg. Tears sting her eyes and stream down her cheeks, mix with the taste of her own sweat on her tongue. She reaches for her communicator to call for help, halting when she hears a familiar voice say her name…_

_"Rey. You'll be okay."_

_"Luke?" she asks, eyes going wide._

_"That light. That energy. Do you feel it?"_

_"No…"_

_"Reach out. You already know what to do."_

She does now. The Force's presence webs from her forearms to her flattened palms. Its energy pours from her hands into the creature, churning to stimulate the cells…

_"Kriff, I need to get stitches, I —"_

_"Reach out."_

_Her eyes dart around, face paling with both fear of the unknown and of jungle-borne infection, not totally familiar with the climate's hazards. She rips off her wraps, ties them around the gash, inhaling sharply when cloth hits skin. The pain snaps her to focus and she grabs the communicator._

_"Not that," Luke says. "The light inside you. It's already there, waiting for you to find it and use it like all those times before."_

And she remembers how she froze, hesitated before placing the device back on the ground. Tried to relax and locate whatever he told her to seek. Her temper boiled over, as it has many times since then,

_"That's all? After so long? Reach out? All the times I tried and got n- nothing in return?"_

_"You already have everything you need. To connect with the light inside you, around you."_

_"And what if I —"_

_"Give it a try."_

…The snake's skin grows, expands to close the wound like a long zipper. The pink color seeps away, soothing and lightening the inflamed area to match the rest. She recalls the calming tide of subsiding pain on Ajan Kloss, the strange awe that comes with performing something new. The light kindling inside her blends her anger & frustration into a temporary place of understanding. Alignment. Maybe even a moment's peace. The defeated beast stays on its side.

Her hands linger just a little longer.

"Go," Rey whispers.

The snake totters upright, shaking the tunnel again. Circles around her to turn about and leave down the straightaway. Rey watches the creature go, turn at the end to hide in the maze again. She tries to hide her trembling hands, pressing down on her thighs.

_Her mouth drops staring at her leg. Fully healed. As if nothing happened at all._

_She looks up and Luke is gone._

The last segment of the creature's tail disappears. She remains suspended in her haze, hears distant footsteps approaching and audible sighs of relief.

Poe breaks the silence. "Wow. That was really something."

It was. Especially after that… morbid curiosity as they fell from the cliff. A flash of weakness after spying an easy way out. Or maybe it was a sting of cruelty, an impulse surfacing that she always knew was inside her.

Whatever happened, it wasn't enough to block her access to the Force. To prevent her from sensing and curing the snake's pain. She felt that light there — still strong & vivid despite the static, the darkness, the gravity of her earlier transgressions —

"I didn't know you could do that," Finn says.

Rey peeks up, sees her companions gathering closer. BB8 and C3PO examine the trails the snake left in the dirt. Chewie looms over Finn and Poe's shoulders, observing Rey carefully.

"Yeah, it's…," she begins, wobbling to her feet. "It can take a lot out of you."

Finn nods slowly, steps back to give her space as she regains her balance. She wipes down the front of her leggings, the calves even dirtier than they were before. Poe requests the coordinates from C3PO, who exclaims,

"Seems we've run in an enormous loop."

"What are you saying?" Poe asks, planting his fists on his hips.

Rey begins wandering down the straightaway from where they came, correctly guessing what the droid will say —

"Only three clicks from Luke's destination." C3PO's bubbly tone echoes through the chamber. "We're right back where we began!"

Chewie laughs. Poe calls, "Rey, your sense of direction is unparalleled."

Something like that. "…Thanks."

The syllable wavers distractedly. A signal bids her to walk down the path, bending through her neck to keep her sight on the right side wall. She switches on the saber again, working to keep her footsteps even despite the flutter in her chest —

"Wait up —"

Rey turns back, waits for Finn to join.

"— Did we miss something?"

"Maybe," she answers. "This is…"

Rey trails off, spots a misshapen shadow ahead. She drags her fingertips along the wall as she moves forward, the shadow becoming a long jagged edge. A trick of the light. She adjusts the angle of her saber, revealing a half-height hollow in the stone. The group's chatter disturbs her concentration and Rey grits her teeth when Poe says,

"Was that tunnel there before?"

"Probably," Finn replies. "We were distracted by running for our lives before, in case you forgot."

"Yeah, totally slipped my mind," Poe retorts. "Did you really think I literally meant —"

 _Do you two ever knock it off?_ Chewie groans.

Rey presses her lips to a line, glad that the wookiee said it instead of her. She glances over her shoulder to see the commander throw his hands up in exasperation once more,

"He said something." Poe turns to Rey, obviously wanting a translation. "He did, didn't he?"

She grins. "Said to keep your voices down. Another creature could be headed this way."

Chewie snorts. Poe isn't convinced, but doesn't press the matter any further. BB8 rolls in front of her & Finn and blips on his flashlight again.

"This is it," she says.

Rey jogs ahead, stops at the mouth of the tunnel to stare down its length. The pathway is straight and narrow, its end completely obscured in more shadow. Her weapon and BB8's spotlight expose cracks & fissures in the walls ahead.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Finn asks.

Rey pauses. She isn't sure. "We'll be okay."

Her stomach flips with added guilt. Rey starts to walk alone, even BB8 hesitates by the entrance. After a few yards she spins around to gesture the others to follow.

"Come on," she bids, grinding her jaw. Right back where they started, in location as well as her impatience. "Think this is it."

She hopes she sounds more confident than she feels. Pauses some seconds and begins again, her strides becoming longer & more relaxed as she draws nearer to an unknown destination. A certain sense of wonder guides her towards the end, like her internal compass knows a secret's waiting to be revealed — 

All their footsteps are amplified in the long underground tube, heightening an excitement that's almost… eerie in its magnetism. A beam of light dwindles into view at the terminus and Rey glances back once more, sees her companions jogging to stay at her pace.

"You think the wayfinder is here?" Finn asks.

"I- I'm not sure," Rey admits. "But something is."

"Got nothing to lose," Poe remarks. "Let's keep alert and keep going."

This time Rey makes sure not to break from the others. The scene sharpens as they approach, spotlighted by opened pockets in the ceiling that illuminate the tunnel's final chamber. They crane their necks to see the same clear blue skies they left behind before dropping through the quicksand. BB8's flashlight clicks off and Rey puts away the lightsaber, clipping it onto her holster. The room appears more cramped than it is, filled with lopsided piles of rocks & sand. C3PO's limbs clank precariously as he avoids tripping over himself again —

And that kriffing static. The quiet white noise that hasn't stopped for days. It grinds to a higher pitch, screeching as Rey walks to the middle of the room.

 **Here.** It has to be — 

She stops. Looks down.

Her breath catches in her throat.

Bones. All that's left of a body. Polished white with thatched grooves from decades of shifting earth. Arranged to resemble a once-humanoid form. Flat and splayed like it landed facedown falling through the sands.

"Oh wow," Finn manages before she does, examining the corpse.

A few objects remain with their owner: buckles & leather tatters at the feet, some tan sun-bleached rags for decomposed clothes, and silver-colored belt loops at the waist & ribs. A large pouch rests by its hipbone, partially buried in sand. Her fingertips flinch. Her ears won't stop ringing. Despite the body being here for so kriffing long, a pull draws her nearer like something still waits to be discovered —

Finn sneezes. "Sorry…"

Rey plants herself on her knees, giving up any fantasy of her outfit staying clean. She wipes away the sand from the unopened bag, yanks it out of the ground.

"This the guy?" Poe asks, his tone tempered with a note of disbelief.

…Probably surprised to see her rummage around a corpse so casually. But this one is far less gruesome than others she's found in the Empire's graveyards on Jakku.

"Ochi," C3PO provides.

"Right, Ochi," Poe repeats. "This him?"

"Yes," Rey answers promptly. Even though she doesn't really know.

She sits back on her feet, fiddles with the heavy pouch's knots. The group chatters around her. Their shadows lengthen in her periphery as they inspect the skeleton and the opened sinkhole above their heads.

"Body's probably picked clean by now," Poe comments.

Finn ignores him. "You find something, Rey?"

A familiar stale scent drifts from the bag… thin, perfumed, floral. Her hands shake when she clasps a cold smooth handle, her pulse racing with a recognition she doesn't understand…

"I think so —"

Rey can barely speak with her chest so tight. The pouch flops to her lap as she removes its sole object: a long dull-edged knife with a decorative blade. The handle is lacquered and inlaid with dark stones that glint with a pearly sheen. She jumps to her feet, senses the others peering over her shoulders to observe.

Rey holds out the knife for better lighting, tilting its blade to reveal shapes burned into its length. Standard coordinate ticks suggest that the unknown marks are numeric. Two destinations are inscribed in the middle, flanked by straight lines composed of more symbols. Some repeat in identifiable patterns, like a language. Locations and messages written in a text she can't read…

Same language from the pamphlet. The one the woman handed her after asking for her name. Before she disappeared. Rey adjusts her grip, stomach lurching when she blinks —

_Two figures stumble into a narrow alley, the taller one supporting the smaller's weight. The night is late and thick with fog, the scene fading in and out as her perspective clicks nearer. Trailing the pair. A fist tightens around a silent weapon. A tiny choked sound echoes down the walkway._

_Crying. Quiet, trembling, and slurred from alcohol._

_A mother's tears._

"— The one time we need you to talk, and you can't?"

Poe's complaint snaps her back once more. Her body feels pale & drained. She senses Finn's palm hovering over her shoulder, trying to decide whether she'll welcome or shrink from his touch. Chewie stands at her other side with a concerned expression. BB8 continues to pick at Ochi's bones, poking for more unfound treasures. 

"It's not included in my database," C3PO explains. "I've triple-checked the files manually, as you insisted —"

"Okay okay," Poe accepts. "What language is it? We'll just pick up a chip and upload it."

"I'm afraid it may not be that easy, commander. The message on this weapon is written in Ancient Sith."

Rey drops the blade with a gasp. Only Finn notices, the rest of them continuing to puzzle out a solution.

"Ancient Sith?" Poe waves it off. "They have loads of ancient languages in the Galactic Archive, gotta be a library this side of the hyperspeed channel somewhere —"

"It won't be that easy, commander," C3PO simplifies. "Almost all information about the Sith was eliminated from The Archive after the Empire's fall. Aside from historical reference and some —"

Finn cuts in. "Why?"

"Oh, well, because —"

Rey's voice rings clear over the rest instead: "The Dark Side of the Force."

A moment passes. Finn sneezes again, breaking the unspoken tension filling the chamber. The ambivalent thoughts of the group feel nearly physical through Rey's open awareness. Like something transpired during her vision that hasn't been addressed. C3PO affirms her statement cheerfully,

"Precisely! Translation files may exist still, but —"

"Would be few and far between, yeah, I get it." Poe pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have a couple ideas."

Finn keeps glancing over at Rey, failing any attempt to not appear curious. He directs his words to Poe. "What kind of ideas?"

"Some contacts from my undercover days," he rushes, changing the subject quickly. "That the wayfinder, Rey?"

"No. It isn't here, but…"

She turns over the blade. The other side is etched with the same geometric designs decorating the pamphlet's borders. Still resting unexplored in her pack.

"…This will help us find our way."

Rey smirks at her own joke. No one laughs.

"Works for me," Poe says. He shields his eyes staring at the hole in the ceiling. "Looks like the way out is up."

Finn points out grooves & roots on the walls above a large pile of boulders stacked in a corner. He suggests using them as footholds. Everyone agrees, begins climbing the debris. Chewie grunts, asking Rey if he can see the dagger too. He rests it text-up in his paws, their size eclipsing the blade. He studies it for a few seconds, tells Rey he can carry it in his bowcaster's strap.

"Sure," she says, barely registering her surroundings as she replays her vision again and again.

_A mother's tears._

Rey knew what the sounds were without seeing any faces. Without knowing anything about the individuals she followed. But her intuition prods her to examine the scene, to continue searching for —

"Maybe we should give Ochi a proper burial," Finn suggests conversationally. When they're halfway through their ascent already.

"You got a shovel?" Poe retorts.

No one speaks again as they climb. The boulders wobble precariously beneath their weight, shifting like they'll fall over at any moment. Finn leads the way with Poe following closely. Rey and Chewie are in the middle with C3PO barely keeping up the rear. BB8 hops ahead, seeking an anchor for his cords. Winds pick up outside, whistling through the chamber and stinging their eyes with bits of sand. 

And Rey reminds herself that Kylo told her the Emperor wants her to seek these clues and go to Exegol alone. She tells herself she should pay more attention to the Ancient Sith connection than the emotional impulse, but —

A high-pitched wail makes a distant approach, screeching louder and closer until the tunnel vibrates. First Order transport ships, flying low to survey the landscape.

— Her stomach drops. The tether to her bond with Kylo winds harshly, signalling his proximity —

"More company!" Poe shouts.

And they all scramble to the top, able to hear one another again when the ships rise to reloop the area. Finn makes it to the top of the rock pile, struggles to wedge his toes into the grooves along the final yards of wall.

"I can't —"

Poe joins, fails just as miserably. "Kriff! What the…"

Dirt crumbles under their nails and boots, the pair sliding back onto the rocks. BB8 chirps and Poe nods back, the pair of them moving to hoist Finn's feet. They get him just high enough to grab the edge of the hole in the ceiling. He nearly kicks Poe's chin pulling up to the top.

"Come on!" he shouts, soon drowned out by the ships' return.

Finn lays on his stomach, reaches down to help everyone out from the tunnel. Even Rey takes his hands, accepting the assist with her boots slipping on the wall. She stares at Ochi's remains for a final time as Chewie and C3PO escape. Sunlight frames the skeleton, sand piles spiraling out like little pockmarks from above. The static buzzes at a lower frequency to signal there's nothing left here.

Rey sits up. The ships make a loop for final approach. She watches the formation carefully, notices them turn towards higher ground.

Poe sees it too. "Looks like they spotted the Falcon before us."

"Let's get out of here," Finn sputters.

The First Order transports dip beneath the horizon and out of sight. Rey discerns an inorganic outline, jutting from the landscape with perpendicular arms like —

"Wings," she whispers aloud.

Chewie makes a noise next to her. Rey draws her hood up to conceal her profile reflexively.

"Wings," she repeats before raising her voice. "There's a ship!"

Finn does a double take, looking between her face and the location she indicates with a pointed finger. "Think that's the one Lando saw?"

"Probably," Poe says. "Let's see what it's got."

They beeline for the cruiser, kicking up clouds of more kriffing sand. Her chest and head are heavy, her thoughts rushed and confused. Too many possibilities flood her mind at once, all of them feeble excuses for what she tries to ignore —

 **Darkness**. Meeting her at every step…

_And coming to the forefront like it was always there. Inside her. Ready to be awake._

— They run for Ochi's ship. Her legs burn with the effort, tired from the earlier chases and climbing from the tunnel. The others are exhausted too, even C3PO's joints crunch & creak. Everyone's panting when they reach the cruiser. Poe marches around the ship, studying the shoddy exterior to assess its current state.

"Start stripping the interior," he instructs. Finn and Chewie enter the small cabin, heeding his command immediately. "Panels seem alright out here…"

The rest is lost as Rey steps away, observes the landscape from their new vantage point. No stormtroopers or First Order vehicles in sight. If they can get the ignition started in the next few minutes, they may be able to lift off with enough of a head start to —

No. An unnerving crawl down her spine says otherwise. Kylo knows she's there. Can feel her presence through the bond like she does his. And after openly challenging him to find her with all the lines she's crossed already…

_"I've killed for you before. And I intend to do it again."_

…He won't just let her leave. He's too insistent on speaking with her alone, too obsessed with his conviction that he's chasing some ultimate fate.

Rey glances back at the others. They're all too zeroed into their work on the ship to see her wander away. That sting of guilt returns, intense and weighed by regret. They have no idea her impulsivity put them all in danger.

She keeps walking, putting more distance between her and the others. The bond flares again, her heart thuds against her ribs. Kylo is close, honing in on her Force signature and —

"Rey!"

Finn calls for her on cue. Chewie shouts too. But she ignores them and no one follows, silenced by another enemy vessel flying over their position. Rey recognizes the unusual shape of the wings. The bond unspools all at once, Kylo's turbulent emotions bleeding through their connection. His ship blinks out of view and Rey knows they don't have much time.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" Poe screams.

And she runs until she can't hear them, until she's an obvious beacon on the open plane. A white silhouette draped in billowing wraps, distinct against the endless desert sands.

Rey stops. Plants her feet into the ground. Grips her saber's handle and waits.

She's ready. Though she isn't sure what for.

After so much at once and barely any time to rest, she welcomes these minutes of trepidation to just fucking breathe —

And think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update is about halfway done already, hope to have up in the next week or two if IRL agrees with me 😅
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you 💘


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading 🙂 This chapter came together pretty quickly, hope you enjoy ❤ Big thank you to [weddersins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddersins) for beta reading.
> 
> Tag Added: "Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It"
> 
> Here we go 💕

Rey furrows her brows, grinds her heels into the sand. Her palm hovers above her holster as she counts to keep her breaths steady. Auxiliary ships descend on the horizon. Six masked figures stand on a plateau overlooking the valley, positioned where the landscape conceals Ochi's ship from their view. She can barely see her companions from this angle, but spots Chewie running into the clearing.

"Go back!" Rey shouts. Even though he's too far to hear, he reads her motions and pauses to watch from a distance.

An eerie quiet follows.

They're surrounded. No way to leave without another chase from Kylo, or his troops. With so much happening so quickly she's had no opportunity to sort out what it all means. For their mission to locate Exegol, for the Resistance at large, for the General who sent her off with somber words and an apology.

_Or what it all means for herself._

The connections seem too personal to be accidental. Luke writing her name in the Jedi texts, the pamphlet in ancient Sith, her vision of the crying mother while underground. All pointing to answers for unknown questions, sending her to the place she's been warned not to go —

The hollow whistle of an engine drops in her ears, creeping closer like a rolling tide. Kylo will arrive in seconds. His presence strengthens in time with his ship's approach. The TIE's noise increases in pitch, soon will be a piercing screech.

Another snap decision to be made without time for deliberation. Circumstances are spiraling out of Rey's control…

But her pulse slows. Her focus tunnels on the little black dot barrelling towards her and growing rapidly. Kylo flies his ship low, only yards from the ground. Boosters ignite, blurring the TIE in a cloud of heat & haze. Rey unclips her saber from its holster, squaring her stance and hardening her glare. Refusing to be flung off-course. Years of exposure & exhaustion built her endurance, her ability to shun emotion to make it to the next sunrise.

Channeling that instinctive determination stirs a power dwelling in her veins. An awareness of her own strength. She can still pilot her destiny. Even if the galaxy tries to say otherwise.

(The insistence is fucking infuriating.)

Her face is hot. Her limbs are loose. Rey senses the Force coursing through the sands, charging her abilities — but also the anger that's prodded all day —

She blinks.

Hears Kylo's voice in the seconds she has left:

_Move aside._

Rey swallows hard.

**_No._ **

His emotions spill through their bond, a mess of frustration and resolve. She expects him to provoke her, but he doesn't respond at all. A scream echoes through the valley, someone's shock of fear watching the scene. Rey is too far away to know, too livid to care. After receiving orders and thwarting death for hours on end, Kylo's pursuit is just another factor she's compelled to puzzle in. And she tells herself it's her own kriffing fault, for getting off instead of getting two steps ahead —

No. This time she won't lose track.

Rey grits her teeth. Switches on the saber's blade. The static distorting her alignment churns steadily, melding with the noise…

…incites the darkness within that rewards those worst impulses she can't ignore.

_Rey —_

**_Stop telling me what to do —_ **

She pivots and sprints ahead of Kylo's TIE. The engine tunes up to a deafening shriek. Her anger fuels her weary limbs, amplifies her link to the Force to enhance her abilities. The energy overtakes her senses, brightens the sun's glare to a blinding light, and her legs carry her faster than she's ever run before. Her strides are longer, more purposeful — and all her rage focuses on the ship daring to call her bluff —

Her knees bend.

The Force lifts her feet.

Her body takes flight.

— Everything falls to a perfect silence as she glides like an arrow, hurtling up into a backwards somersault. The air lifts her higher. Weaves into her movements to amplify her precision and speed, bends the lines of her slim figure to an arc. The sky crisps a clearer blue. The TIE's sonic boom vibrates through her bones. Rey grips her weapon's handle, her body rising as the ship passes below. Straight wings flank the cockpit like sails, placing her picture into a frame.

She feels Kylo through their bond with every heartbeat — pushing the controls to maintain balance & speed, holding his breath as he senses her too — his intense drive is maddening, so opposite her uncertainty.

But she can stop this right now. Rey locates a wing's joint, twists to aim her weapon —

She slices the piece in one clean motion, peeling through the metal and severing the wing completely.

The TIE slips from underneath her, tearing away at a clip before it wobbles off-balance. Rey holds her position, braces for landing. The ship veers sideways, going diagonal right before they both hit the ground.

(And her chest stings with a second's fear that she realizes is not her own.)

Rey recovers. Her boots touch sand and cushion her graceful landing. She remains lunged forward, arms outstretched with the saber tight in her hand.

And watches Kylo's ship slam into the earth. The cockpit spins, still attached to the TIE's single wing. It rolls forward like a toy, the crash echoes through the valley with a lingering crunch. The fuel tanks scrape open against rocks & debris as it skids to a stop —

The wreckage halts, totally engulfed in flames.

Her heart drops to her knees. The horizon levels as she regains her bearings, eyes widening while she surveys the scene. Her body feels empty, separated from the Force's energy. The victory is hollow, quiet, strange — 

_What has she done…_

Rey disengages her blade. The scent of fire & fuel is thick in her nose, carried by the valley's winds from yards away. Her breaths shake as she returns her weapon to its holster. Her hands tremble dropping to her sides. Her insides twist hearing a distant engine whirr to ignition —

_But the bond is still intact…_

…thrumming low like the static's distortion. Kylo's presence flickers through the connection with the crash's flames. The fuselage cracks collapsing to the ground. 

Finally her feet move, slowly take her towards the ship.

Rey bites the skin behind her lip hard enough to bleed. Unsure if she feels regret, fury, or relief — all of it tempered by a sense of **loss** draining her nerves — 

(Like she may have killed something rare and precious she didn't know she had.)

— A silhouette emerges through the dark smoke rising from the ship. The outline marches towards her, growing taller and broader until it takes a humanoid form.

She recognizes Kylo before he comes into view, his chewed-up cape flapping behind him with his mask under one arm. He appears relatively unscathed, the helmet & rollcage protecting him effectively. Portions of his trousers and tunic are scorched, the fire-proof fabric preventing the flames from spreading.

Somehow she expected his face to be different this time. Twisted by rage like she saw on Crait. But he looks pale, reeling from shock, lips parted with…

Astonishment.

Admiration.

The dumbfounded expression is both maddening and unnerving. To see him leaving a burning ship with barely a scratch, staring at her like some marvelous creature he's never seen. She almost killed him and he seems pleased with her passion —

Rey blinks. Glances behind her, self-consciously trying to determine what her companions can and cannot see. She exhales slowly, turns to meet Kylo's eyes, remembers his confidence when he said,

_You do it because you're the one chasing the Dark, Rey._

No. She won't let him be right, not after everything she's worked on as the sole guardian of the Jedis' legacy. Whatever her personal ambivalence, those myths and fantasies she held onto as a little girl are too precious to discard. Too important to let the spark extinguish for the galaxy at large.

She repeats the word despite the fluttering in her chest and the memory of Kylo's breath heating her neck —

**"No!"**

Rey charges forward, grabs her saber, and leaps into an offensive strike. She swings the weapon back, totally reckless and open to attack — centering every hateful thought about her path being directed by others on him —

The man who she thought would want to run away and just asked to stay instead —

Kylo takes a step, seizes her with the Force to throw her aside. He releases her too quickly and Rey lands on her feet. She points the saber in front of her as he storms over with clenched fists.

"Nice to see you too," he says, not bothering to hide any bitterness from his tone.

Rey twists the saber, hears its low buzzing crackle in her ears. "You're following me."

"I told you I know where you are."

"So what?" she retorts, taking a step closer. Her weapon remains steady. "I don't want to see you."

And Rey snarls, honing her scavenger's instinct to fight instead of flee. She runs in, consumed by the rush of unleashed rage and —

Rey freezes. Kylo holds his hand out with his fingers curled, using the Force to keep her at bay.

Briefly their eyes meet.

She escapes the bind, throws him several yards back with a burst of energy. He falls on his back, gets twisted in his cape. Kylo ignites his lightsaber when he rises from the ground, blowing his matted hair from his nose,

"I don't want to fight you —"

"Too bad."

He twirls his weapon as he approaches, takes a defensive stance. And ignores her response completely,

"I felt it again just now. When you took down my ship."

"Felt what?!" she demands.

"— Your darkness."

The phrase cleaves a hole in her chest, right where that static hums knowingly. She tries to play it off. "You don't know what you're —"

"That anger. And passion. Using it to fuel your strength —"

The hollow carves deeper. "No, I'm just kriffing tired of all this. I'm tired of you."

"Sure you are," he replies with a smirk.

And that does it. Rey tears at Kylo with her saber raised like a spear, wild and blinded by frustration. This time he doesn't hold back, throwing her hard onto the ground. Rey loses grip of her blade, it sizzles landing a few feet away. She hears Kylo's footsteps crunching grains of sand as he runs towards her, and she rolls over to call her weapon to her hand — 

All the air leaves her lungs.

She snaps to full attention, eyes widening to see Kylo looming over her. He pins her knees on either side with his, bracing her with both the Force and his weight to prevent her attack.

**"Stop."**

Rey deflects his attempt again, managing to creak,

"Y- You have a lot of nerve…"

She frees her hand, crooks her fingers and aims to scratch his unscarred cheek —

Kylo grabs her wrist, clasps it hard beside her ear. He shifts his jaw, increasing his effort to fix her in place.

"You keep trying to kill me."

The Force collapses her grunt to a squeak. Her chest rises fast with panting breaths, voice silenced by a harsh tension through their bond.

_And your troops tried to kill me,_ she spits back across his mind.

_You chose to leave to join their war._

That pang of guilt again. Kylo doesn't need to clarify for her to know what he means. A couple seconds pass. He refers to the war like it's something beneath her, a minor concern to dismiss despite being a wedge this whole time. It shouldn't feel like she wronged him, not when his alliance relied on joining the First Order —

She glances away uncomfortably. Still unable to move. The smell of his sweat fills her nose, bittered with burning fuel carried by the breeze. His body feels too near again, broad frame blocking the horizon from her view. Engines roar to life to signal their impending ascent, echoing through the valley & the opened connection like a warning. Kylo adjusts his hold on her wrist, 

"Stop. Please."

_It's too important,_ he insists. Almost pleading.

Rey presses her lips to a line. Instead of getting to the point, Kylo makes the mistake of prefacing,

"I've never lied to you." He pauses. "And I never… meant to mislead you. About this."

_What?_

"I didn't know it all before, not until the other —"

The anger she's battled roars with renewed strength. Tears sting her eyes reflexively, dazed from another unanticipated exchange. Not this too… not another —

(A flash of confusion filters through the Force, a faint blip on a distant radar trying to reach her location. Not understanding what it sees. For some reason it makes her think of Finn.)

— Rey doesn't know what Kylo means but she can't do this. Not now. She refuses to hear the rest,

**"Get off me!"**

She screams as she breaks the Force's cage, shoving him off her with a surge of energy. He grunts landing hard on his back again, skids across the sand. Rey snatches her weapon, hurries to a stand. The static racing in her veins keys to a higher frequency and she spins around trying to catch up —

"REY!"

Finn runs into the valley, shouting and waving his arms to get her attention. He points to a pair of First Order transport ships loading supplies & troops, idling in the clearing before final take-off. A small group of soldiers escort a towering figure towards one of the ramps with blasters. 

"Chewie!" Rey screams.

She recognizes the wookiee's fur creating a shaggy outline from far away. His head droops down in resignation, paws double-cuffed behind his back. A stormtrooper shoves him along with the barrel of his blaster, body language broadcasting a gruff & short tone. Another soldier examines Chewie's bowcaster, the weapon dwarfing their gloved hands.

They're taking one of her only friends left.

Rey sprints from the wreckage without giving Kylo a second thought. She clips her lightsaber into its holster, counts her breaths to focus on increasing her speed. Her heart pounds through the static, reminded of similarly shaped ships flying loved ones away.

_Rey —_

She shuts Kylo out. Remembers the dagger pocketed in the bowcaster's strap, the coordinates written in Ancient Sith, and their only lead to locating Exegol. Tears blur the transports into gray blobs as they lift off. The mission is falling apart, someone she cares for is headed for a cell. Her stomach twists when that tiny part of her whispers,

_It's all your fault._

The First Order knows their location from Kylo examining her necklace's beads. And she let him touch her anyways, even after she knew he would chase her relentlessly. She sealed their failure long before they were spotted by any troops. Even though the whispers from her dreams insist there's nothing to regret at all.

And Rey can't tell which part of her is in control. The Light insisting she stay on course. The Dark tempting her to follow her lesser impulses. The little girl alone in the desert making snap decisions in crumbling ships to evade certain death.

She feels powerless to stop any of it —

Her breath catches in her throat. She's within striking distance of the transports.

**No.**

Rey throws her hand up in the air. Seizes the ship with the Force to hold it in place.

The transport lurches to break away before snapping back like a band, unable to escape her grip. She curls her fingers and the ship cinches lower, her motions tugging it towards the ground. Blue flames jet from the rear engines, the pilot initiating a set of boosters in a useless effort to leave. Rey clenches her jaw, distantly proud of her displaying her command of the Force. She couldn't imagine doing something like this a year ago, when she first sensed a dormant power flowing in her veins…

She feels powerful. Capable. Alive.

(The static tingles pooling into her digits and limbs, humming agreeably.)

— Her energy field shrinks. The ship shoots forward, igniting another set of boosters. Rey bends her fingers into claws, imagines digging her nails into the transport's panels with a terrible crunching shriek. The bond flickers a second before she hears Kylo speak,

_What are you doing?_

His voice cuts through the roar of engines, loud and clear through their bond. She looks away from the ship. Sees Kylo standing across from her with his hand raised in direct challenge of her efforts. His demeanor is far more calm than hers, years of experience & training granting him confidence with his abilities that she wishes she had. The wind sweeps his hair and tattered cape, sun brightening his angular features and the fraying edges of his uniform — the very image of the capable leader he pretends to be —

The second's distraction is enough for Kylo to use to his advantage. The transport veers to one side, staggers up towards the atmosphere. The final set of boosters ignite. The sound is deafening, warbled with white noise — 

_Think you're proving something to me? To your friends?_

She wrenches back control. The transport dips several feet before Kylo yanks it away from her grasp. Rey throws all her weight into her arm as she reaffirms her hold, the ship arching back towards her precariously.

_You're doing exactly what Palpatine wants._

Rey pushes him out of her mind, senses her frustration & confusion feeding the Force's presence inside her. Taking her passion and using her anger to charge her awareness like an internal cell. The stupid ship bobbles between them like a child's plaything in a stubborn tug-of-war, swerving hard and probably upending every unbolted item inside. Her body feels charged and strange —

This is different from accessing the Light flowing through the galaxy itself, connecting with it like an external perception she taps into…

This time the Force feels like something in her grip.

She unleashes her rage.

Her fingers tense. Her palms feel scratchy — like they did right before her communicator shorted before — 

But with the energy magnified tenfold, it releases with a literal spark from her fingertips:

**CRACK**

The ship explodes in flames.

A sinking realization plummets through her bones —

"CHEWIE!" she shrieks.

The transport falls to the sand in smoldering bits of metal. The fuel charges burst into fireworks. Their acrid odor is pungent and Rey thinks she might get sick. She snatches her hand down, stares at her open palm like an object detached from her body. It smolders with a thin gray smoke, stings her eyes as she wipes away her tears.

She rushes towards the crash site, screaming and stumbling over her own feet,

"CHEWIE!"

She spits out clumps of sand as she wails, struggling to come to a stand. The ground cakes her nails, dirties her white clothes even more. She manages to kneel, clutching her stomach and starting to heave —

_She killed him. With her own hand. With her own anger. With her —_

"Rey…"

Someone touches her shoulder, hesitant but gentle with concern. Finn's voice doesn't register until he calls to her again,

"Rey, we have to get out of here."

She pushes Finn away when he tries to help her stand. "But Chewie —"

"We gotta go —"

This time she lets him grab her upper arms to support her weight, slumping in his grip. Her body is a limp and lifeless husk, totally hollow with regret and shame. Finn guides her unsteady limbs, props her upright as she collapses against his chest.

"I killed him!" she sobs. "I killed him, I —"

Blaster shots whip past them, burn holes in the ground all around their feet. Finn doesn't correct her. Both of them know nothing he says can change the horrible truth.

"Oh gods, I didn't mean to, Chewie, I didn't —"

She tries to free herself from Finn's arms but he drags her away from the wreckage. From the flames and the second ship rising into the atmosphere to make a hasty getaway. And Kylo just stands there, jaw dropped with his shock reeling through their bond.

He reaches out once more,

_Rey…_

"I hate you!" she yells, adrenaline refusing to cool. Finn scrambles to reaffirm his hold as Rey swings her fists. "I HATE YOU!"

_You don't mean that._

Her pulse skips. He's right. She doesn't. A note of fear slices through her cries, her coughs, and the thrum of another ship taking off —

(A second's shock, too Light to be Kylo's. Or her own.)

— She tries to ignore it, lets Finn lead her away as she turns to spit at Kylo one last time,

"I- I hope you're happy!"

There's a beat. He shouts back, "I'm not."

And somehow, for some reason that Rey doesn't even try to understand, he lets them go. A statue watching them leave, dark uniform cloaking his frame like a spectre. The six masked figures Rey noticed before scale down the plateau. A final contingent of stormtroopers are at the bottom, training their blasters on her and Finn. Most of the shots miss wildly, one clips a hole through the edge of Finn's sleeve. He wrestles Rey's arm down when she reaches for her blaster to return their fire.

"Leave it!" he insists. "Just…"

And she listens, snaking out of his arms to run towards Ochi's ship. She hears Finn hurrying to catch up, boots clapping on the sand as they flee. More shots whizz past them and create plumes of sand as they hit the ground. Her side aches from exertion and shortened breaths, lungs too tight with guilt to fully expand. She barely remembers her legs moving, her fists clenching until her knuckles turn white —

When they make it, Rey spins around to see Kylo exactly where she left him. A black silhouette observing their escape like a knowing sentry. The connection is still pried open, their emotions too vivid and confused to make sense of anything.

_Please._

Another flash of memory.

_Kylo's hand outstretched, voice low as his eyes begged for her to stay._

"Move! Move! Let's go!"

Poe shouts from the cockpit, engines ready for departure. Finn rushes past her into the ship, gestures for Rey to join,

"Come on…"

Rey boards with a nod, too dizzy and overwhelmed to note her surroundings. She flops face-down on the first lounge she sees, wets the stale dusty fabric with her tears.

She hears Finn nearby. "Rey, are you…"

She doesn't answer and he doesn't pry. He rests her pack nearby on the floor, the object landing with an awkward clunk.

His feet trail away softly.

And the ship lifts into the sky, carrying her away to another great unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again 💞 Your feedback keeps me motivated and adds ten years to my life. Hope to have next update ready pretty soon 😊
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)


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